A Rabbit among Wolves
by Coeur Al'Aran
Summary: Jaune wanted nothing more than to become a hero – and in a way he got his wish. One man's criminal is another's hero and the faunus of Remnant need a champion. Who better to take the mantle of leader of the White Fang? Not a faunus? Not a terrorist? No aura, training or leadership skills to speak of? Minor details. All hail supreme leader Jaune Arc. Long live the resistance!
1. Chapter 1

**Welp. Here's the new story. It'll be rotating on a bi-weekly basis with Service with a Smile. I agonised for ages over the title, unsure if I should go for something decent sounding but serious, or just embrace the zany concept with a bonkers title. In the end, well, you can see. **

**The forum and I even went through weird Isekai titles. It wasn't easy and "Yellow Fang" just didn't have the edge I wanted. Do I like this? Eh. It's a meh from me. Serious titles are often much easier than comedy ones, as even "Beacon Civil War" had a title that implied a more serious nature – despite being the epitome of crack. **

**I even read through a list of every rabbit breed I could find to see if any seemed fitting! **

**Did you know there's a rabbit called "American Standard Rabbit" – and it's a **_**rare breed**_**! America, please, this isn't what `standard` means… and it was originally called the "German Blue Vienna" before that. How less American can you get? **

**Rabbit names didn't help. I had to enlist the Professor Arc forum's aid. My thanks to them!**

**We actually have some cover art for this already thanks to Serox, who kindly made a derpy White Fang logo for Jaune. There was a more serious version too, with the bunny snarling like the canon WF logo, but this kind of wide-eyed panicked expression fit much better.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Adam was a man with many regrets.

Blake was one of them. A recent one. Beyond that, he regretted how the faunus had rolled over after the last war; how many of them accepted debasement and poverty. He regretted that violence was necessary to change the status quo; that good men and women had to die to bring change. That his people were seen as monsters, and that history would not remember them fondly whatever the outcome of their revolution.

Adam was a man with many regrets.

He was also a man with a hole in his throat, which really ought to have invalidated a lot of those regrets; or at least pushed them down in importance. He pondered that for a second, but only for a second. There wasn't anything with which to ponder when you were dead. Had he lived a little longer, Adam might have regretted his death being so…

Anticlimactic.

Suddenly, Adam was a man with very few regrets. Unless he counted as a dead body which still did. Perhaps the millions of tiny bacteria that made up his system and lived in symbiosis with the man were regretting not picking someone a little more long-lived. Perhaps his gut regretted the food it had eaten earlier, which would soon be decomposing in a stomach that was in itself decomposing.

_Maybe I'm thinking too hard on this,_ Jaune thought.

He was, after all, a man stood in a shop with a bloody knife in one hand, a dead body on the floor and at least six armed terrorists in masks behind him. It wasn't the best time for philosophy. In fact, it might just have been the worst of times.

Jaune was also a man with many regrets.

He regretted coming to Vale. He regretted trying to become a huntsman. He regretted the sticky toffee pudding he'd had an hour before, which was now flip-flopping around in his stomach and he regretted waving back at that pretty girl earlier who had been waving at someone behind him and had then laughed at his embarrassment. Compared to a man like Adam they were fairly pathetic regrets – but they were his, damn it, and no one would take them away.

Oh, and he regretted everything that led up to this disaster.

Obviously.

"He killed Adam," one of the faunus said. He wore the distinctive mask of the White Fang, which didn't quite cover the gobsmacked look on his face. His grey uniform blended in with his fellows and the gun at his side was pointed down. "He… He killed Adam. Just like that…"

Jaune hid the bloody knife behind his back. "No, I didn't."

"You-" the faunus choked on air. "Knife…"

With a metallic clink, the murder weapon bounced off the wall, not quite disappearing around the corner as Jaune had hoped it would. The bloody instrument came to rest where it fell, visible to all. Nervously, Jaune stepped over and gave it a kick, sending it skittering out of sight. He cleared his throat, coughed and faced the White Fang once more.

"What knife?"

The man pointed weakly.

Another placed a hand on his arm and pushed it down, shaking his head slowly.

By this point the store owner had taken the distraction he'd provided to do the brave thing and run far, far away, abandoning his innocent customer to the White Fang. If he was lucky, the man would call the police and they could tell his parents how he died.

The dust store was silent. The six faunus continued to stare at him, weapons pointed toward the ground and eyes gingerly flicking between Jaune and the dead body of Adam Taurus. He certainly looked dead. A hole in the throat tended to do that to a person, breath being at least somewhat important in the day-to-day running of the brain.

"What do we do?" a female faunus asked. "He killed Adam."

"I guess… I guess that makes him the new boss?"

"Is that how it works?"

"I don't know. Do you want to argue with him?"

"He's unarmed."

"He was unarmed when Adam took him hostage." The faunus nodded to the dead man. "Look how that worked out."

Adam didn't respond, on account of being life impaired.

In his defence – not that it did him much good now – Adam _had_ chosen his hostage carefully. The shopkeeper might have had any kind of weapon under his counter, while the derpy looking teenager in the corner had a sword on his person. A danger, yes, but better a danger addressed than ignored. He'd snuck up, wrapped an arm around the boy's throat and placed a dagger to his neck.

In Jaune's defence – and he definitely needed it right now – he'd suddenly found himself with a knife at his neck. Panic felt, at the very least, an understandable reaction.

The rest was a blur. Quite literally. There had been screaming, crashing shelving units, angry shouting, much flailing and then gravity playing tricks on them. At one point there'd been some shattered dust jars, some explosions, a few crackling bolts of lightning and a smell not unlike urine, that turned out to be urine, likely from how he'd pissed himself in absolute panic. Again, fair. Knife to neck and all that. The culmination of it all led to a somewhat improbably series of events where he found himself on top of a stunned, dazed and blinded terrorist wiping dust from his eyes. The rest, as they say, was history.

"If I kill him, does that make me the boss?"

"Sure. Go for it."

The faunus did not in fact `go for it`. He stood exactly where he was and looked to his fellows nervously. "I was only asking…" He licked his lips. "So. Uh. New boss?"

"New boss."

The six of them bent knee.

Now, Jaune knew he was a bit of an idiot.

His mom said it. His dad said it. His sisters said it. He said it too – and there was plenty of evidence to back it up, both from school papers, social interactions (or misinteractions most commonly) and the occasional moment where common sense failed, like wanting to become a huntsman despite not having aura or any lick of combat training. But there was being an idiot and then there was being an idiot.

He was an idiot in the sense of making stupid mistakes and not accounting for the risks; he was not an idiot in the sense of telling a bunch of deadly criminals who were inexplicably calling him their boss that he _wasn't in fact_ their boss, and that they should just kill him and get on with what they were doing.

He was dumb, not suicidal.

"Yes. That's right. I'm… I'm your new boss." He swallowed. "So you better do what I say if you don't want the same as what happened to Adam to happen to you."

"I'm not gonna argue with you, boss." The apparent spokesperson for the faunus was a tallish man with a pair of glasses balanced on the outside of his mask. "What are your orders?"

Surrender and tie yourselves up? Turn around, cover their eyes and count to five thousand? That didn't seem likely to go down well and was liable to get him shot, which give the whole no aura thing would be a pain. A very brief pain, but pain nonetheless.

"What is it you were doing before?"

"Adam brought us here to secure dust, oh divine and most wise leader."

Seeing as they were in a dust store, Jaune wondered how the man could say that with a straight face. "Right. I knew that. And call me Jaune." He coughed into one hand. "Secure the dust. Take as much as you can carry and we'll get out of here."

There. That sounded good enough. The faunus evidently agreed because they holstered their weapons and went about filling vials and cases of dust, draining them from various tubes and containers lining the walls. While they did, Jaune eyed the exit and calculated his chances of making a break for it. Factoring in the distance, his overall fitness and the way his knees were knocking together, he estimated he could make it halfway before he fainted.

The alternative was letting them take the dust, telling them to take it somewhere and then walking away when they went to do so. He could book the first bullhead back to Ansel, hang up Crocea Mors and get a real job.

"Glorious leader," a voice behind him said. "We've secured the dust."

"Um. Yes. Good." They were all looking to him for instructions. "Do we have a way of getting it out?"

"We have a van parked out back."

There was in fact a van parked around the back of the building, sequestered down an alleyway with its back door open. Several of the faunus ran ahead to stack the containers in the back while another crawled in and between the seats, turning on the ignition. The lights flashed forward and back, illuminating them in the late evening dark. It struck Jaune again that he was consorting with criminals, literally helping them toss loot into an escape vehicle.

Better that than being Adam'd.

Sadly, the world didn't seem to agree. White light suddenly shone down the alley, blinding them. Two headlights were shining fiercely against them, silhouetting them.

"This is the police!" someone yelled. "Put your hands on your heads!"

Tyres screeched behind them as well, another car pulling up at the mouth of the alley and cutting off their escape.

For the briefest of instants, Jaune thought back to the shopkeeper with absolute joy. The old man had called the police – he was saved. That relief soon died when he noticed the guns very much pointed at him, and the fact he was currently surrounded and quite complicit with several criminals.

"Boss, we're surrounded!" the driver yelled. "What do we do?"

Jaune already had his hands on his head. "What?" he asked, wondering why they were staring at him. "I'm doing what comes naturally."

The tallest of the faunus howled and leapt forward, gun at the ready. "Long live the White Fang!"

"Shit!" The police ducked behind their car doors. "OPEN FIRE!"

Jaune was a man with many regrets but being gunned down by the police wasn't about to become one of them.

Hands still on his head in the vague hopes they'd noticed and not hurt him, he hurled himself back through the door and into the dust shop, dodging the hail of bullets that tore back and forth outside. He landed hard, face down and shaking, wide eyes staring into Adam's dead face.

_You did this,_ Adam seemed to say. _You dumb fucker._

Jaune scurried to his feet. "It's not my fault!"

Out. He needed a way out.

Scanning the shop, he settled on the front door – obvious in hindsight. Vaulting the counter, he landed on his feet and nearly fell, catching himself on a shelf and racing ahead. His shoulder hit the door and knocked it back. The little bell above squealed angrily.

Stumbling out into the cool air and with the gunfire _still_ echoing behind him, Jaune looked around in panic. There! He dashed across the street and slammed face first into the window of a bright yellow taxi, slapping his hand on the glass and pushing his nose and mouth up against it.

"I need a ride!" he yelled. "NOW!"

The pudgy cabbie inside stared back at him with wide eyes. Terror spread across his face before he screamed and dragged himself over the passenger seat, unbuckling his seatbelt, pushing the other door open and rolling out. The overweight driver ran away, stumbling his way down the sidewalk and abandoning his car.

Jaune stared after him. "What…?"

"Nice work, boss!" A meaty hand landed on his back with a thwack, his _allies_ appearing behind him and having frightened the taxi driver off. Their guns were smoking and two were still firing back toward the shop, keeping the officers pinned. "Guys, the boss got us a car! Quick, get in!"

Not waiting for Jaune to figure out what was going on, the faunus pulled the door open and shoved him inside, following. Jaune had a moment to recognise the footrest of the passenger side as he fell face down into it, legs kicking up in the air, before the other five faunus piled into the back like it was a clown car. Vials and cases of dust spilled out and over the centre console as the bespectacled faunus twisted the key in the ignition and slammed the stick into gear. His foot stamped down on the pedal.

The taxi squealed forward.

Jaune slammed even further down into the footrest, curling into a ball.

Sirens echoed behind them.

"They're on our tail!"

"Gee – you think? It's like we robbed a place or something!" The driver swerved the vehicle left just as Jaune was trying to right himself. The sudden change had him crashing into the door and back down again, moaning faintly. "You okay, boss? Deery, help him up."

Hands gripped him by the shoulders as a woman with deer horns leaned over the seat and pulled him up out the footrest. Jaune mumbled his thanks – if nothing else, mom taught him to be polite – and sagged back, looking out the windscreen in time to scream.

"Hold on!"

The front of the car ramped up off the road with a horrifying _ker-chunk_, rattling up onto the sidewalk and a steep flight of stairs. The car wasn't made for it and the sound the wheels made with every fearsome impact was agonising, to say nothing off the bouncing. Deery lurched up and hit the roof, then collapsed over his legs. Glass shattered and lightning dust sparked, turning the inside of the taxi into a fireworks display.

They cleared the steps and went over, lurching ponderously through the air with everyone inside screaming and crackling, watching the road approach and wondering whether the taxi could even take the impact.

Tyres screeched down. The suspension howled and something snapped. A metallic object skittered off to the left while the car went right, Jaune wailing along with Deery, who was sat in his lap with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Wahooo!" the driver yelled, laughing as he wrenched the wheel to the right, dodged a parked garbage truck and pulled out onto a new road. Behind, the police were forced to navigate around the shortcut they'd taken.

"Perry, you stupid asshole!" Deery screamed, still clinging to Jaune for dear life. "I'll kill you once this is over!"

"Least you'll be free to do so." He slammed the pedal down and brought the revs so high the engine sounded like it was being tortured. There was a horrible rattle from the rear-right wheel that couldn't have been healthy. "Might want to strap your seatbelts. We're not clear yet."

Looking back, three police cars were in pursuit through the rear window, blue and red lights flashing.

Their yellow cab rattled down the road spitting sparks as it went. It wasn't made for speed and the pursuit vehicles were having no trouble catching up. He wasn't even sure if that was a good thing or not. Would they believe him if he said this was all one big misunderstanding? Probably not after they'd already opened fire on them. More likely, they planned to ram them off the road.

"Faster!" Jaune yelled. "Faster!"

"Sure thing, boss!"

Jaune and Deery were slammed back into the passenger seat. Idly, he realised it was the closest he'd ever come to having a girl in his lap. It was also much closer than he wanted as they both clutched to one another in panic.

"Bullhead!" a faunus in the back warned, pointing over the console.

"Fuck!" Perry swerved left and out onto a bridge leading over a canal. The Bullhead followed, flying through the air to their left with its bright spotlight fixed over their car. "They're really bringing out the big guns here. And for what, a little dust?"

"They must want Adam."

"They can have him!" Jaune spat. "He's not doing much right now!"

"Too soon, boss. Too soon."

_THUMP_

Jaune's view was cut off – shadows cast over him as something landed on the hood of the car and caused it to buckle. A pair of legs stood before the window. Following them up revealed tight grey trousers leading to a white and grey shirt with a popped collar. A red cloak fluttered behind the man, who looked down on him with a smug grin, faint beard and black-grey hair. A triangular-shaped weapon was slung over one shoulder, his other hand planted on his hip.

The man's grin grew. "Hey there. Room for one more?"

"Huntsman!"

The huntsman raised one foot and slammed a black shoe into the window, shattering it on his side and making the car swerve. Shards of glass rained down on them as everyone – him, Deery, Perry and the passengers in the back – screamed in panic.

"Now, what do we have here," the huntsman said, voice gravelly. He reached in and gripped Jaune by the collar. "Out you come, kiddo. Sheesh. They recruit you lot younger and younger."

"I'm not White Fang!" Jaune wailed. "You've got it wrong."

"Yeah, I'm sure – this is all just one big misunderstanding." The huntsman chuckled and stared to haul him out. Deery and the others grappled with his legs, ironically saving him and for a moment earning his adoration.

"You can't take the boss. He's ours!"

Only for a moment.

"Boss, huh?" The huntsman suddenly looked a whole lot more interested. And pleased. "Well, well, well. And here I thought I'd be wasting my time tonight."

He started to pull harder, stretching Jaune out between him and the faunus, while Perry continued to try and swerve to knock him off the bonnet. Jaune's body rose up off the floor, pulled taut between them like a rope in some mid-car-chase game of tug-of-war. His hands were free and flailing about wildly, desperately trying to push the man off.

It was a lost cause. As the car went left, the huntsman bent his knees, balancing like some goat on a sheer cliff-face. The faunus kept pulling on his feet and legs, Deery at his side with both arms wrapped around his waist, her upper body hanging out the shattered window. Even then it wasn't enough, and he started to inch out, wind whistling through his hair as he found himself half in and half out the car.

"Boss!" one of the faunus yelled, throwing something at him. "Use this!"

A metal briefcase hit his chest. Struggling as he was between them, he still managed to catch it and his eyes widened. Dust was the lifeblood of huntsmen. It was a miracle substance capable of so much – of shaping the weather, creating energy, blowing Grimm away, healing injuries and powering homes. It was a poorly misunderstood and wild source of energy.

The faunus probably meant for him to use the dust – and he would have, had he known a thing about it. Some people dabbled in dust alchemy, mixing various colours and grades to make complicated mixtures. Jaune didn't even like to mix ice-cream flavours, making the dust itself an absolute mystery.

The metal case it was contained within less so.

Jaune slammed a corner of it up into the huntsman's testicles.

Red eyes crossed and the man buckled with a high-pitched groan, hands leaving Jaune's collar to fix over his crotch. With everyone inside the cab pulling, Jaune shot back, now sitting in Deery's lap and face to face with the agonised huntsman who was kneeling on the hood, hands between his legs.

He didn't look pleased.

Jaune panicked, screamed and smacked the metal case across his face. This time, the man was prepared and got his aura up in time. The blow knocked him back but caused no injury – his face being harder than the metal itself. Sadly, the case itself didn't have aura and the impact snapped open one of the latches, making it open and spill dust into the huntsman's mouth and eyes.

Bright flashes of light, fire and ice sparked in the cabin, blinding, burning and freezing their faces in equal measure. The car swerved and squealed as Perry lost sight of the road. The huntsman's kicking legs didn't help in that regard, nor did his arms, lashing out in every direction. His weapon bounced off the roof and away but that made him no less a threat, especially when his face was going through every dust reaction possible.

By intention or terrible accident, the huntsman managed to catch Perry in the jaw with one fist.

The faunus slumped back, his glasses shattered.

Everyone screamed.

"Arghhhhh!"

Jaune screamed hardest but still managed to lurch over to fight with the wheel, lower half of his body in Deery's lap, her holding onto him in a panic, and his upper half bent over Perry. Perry's foot had the accelerator pushed down and the revs picked up, the car already struggling with its top speed and now being pushed harder and harder.

"Look out!" Deery yelled.

The cab swerved left and then right, dodging a parked lorry and pulling out into the middle of the bridge, skidding like a tap dancer on an ice rink. The road ahead was clear, though only for a moment. The Bullhead that had been chasing them and that had dropped off the huntsman pulled down ahead, hovering over and to the left of the road, bathing them in white light from its spotlight.

"_STOP THE VEHICLE_!" a mechanical voice instructed.

"I can't!" Jaune howled uselessly back. "He knocked out the driver."

"_STOP THE VEHICLE_!"

"I – pft – knocked out the what-now?" the huntsman asked, wiping dust out his face. He cleared his vision long enough to look at what was taking place in the driver's seat and curse. "Oh, fuck me…" He glanced back. "Any chance I can convince you lot to give up?"

Still screaming, Deery punched him in the face.

"Ow! Ah! Stop that! I have aura! Oof! Stop!" The huntsman's legs kicked and he struggled with one hand to protect himself. "You're under, damn it, arrest! Stop struggling so damn much!"

"Let go of the wheel!" Jaune shouted. "You'll make us crash."

"If I let go, I fall out!" the huntsman replied.

Every faunus in the cab yelled "GOOD!" at the same time.

Perry groaned and shook himself awake, cracking one eye open and shaking his head. He brought a hand up to pick his glasses off his nose and look at them forlornly, then toss them aside. He looked up, gasped and pointed. "ROADBLOCK!"

Five police cars were split across the road, with two lorries behind to reinforce, lights flashing as they cut off the bridge at the far end, creating a wall of metal their vehicle was careening toward. There was even a line of spikes set up to puncture their tyres beforehand, assuming they still had any. If the screeching and rattling was anything to go by, they were pretty much driving on rims as it was.

This was it. He was dead. Faced with the reality of it, Jaune did the only thing he could.

He curled up into a ball and screamed.

In doing so, he let go of the wheel. The huntsman did not, hardly having expected it and still struggling to keep hold of the car. With the resistance suddenly gone, he slid to the left on the hood, crying out in shock and dragging the wheel with him. It rolled left. The car tried to do the same and swerved hard. Tyres screeched and the world outside the car spun, a heavy railing approaching fast as they drove straight into it and through, off the side of the bridge.

Directly at the hovering Bullhead.

For a second, he could see the pilots looking back at them. Their mouths open. In the grand scheme of things, they probably hadn't expected the White Fang to launch their escape vehicle at them like a surface-to-air missile. It just wasn't the done thing. The training manual didn't even mention the possibility.

The headlights of their car, one cracked, reflected off the cockpit window. The huntsman's face did as well, mouth open in absolute horror as a very flammable object hurtled toward a very flammable object, neither being immovable or invulnerable and both sure to explode merrily on impact. Perry gripped the wheel and tried to right it, screaming the whole time. The tyres twisted left and right but couldn't find much traction on open air.

"Arghhh!" Jaune said.

"Arghhhhhh!" Deery agreed.

"Wahhhhhh!" Perry argued.

"Shiiiiiit!" the huntsman countered.

The others came to their own conclusion, adding a fresh cacophony of wails and screams as they hurtled toward certain death. Inside the cockpit, Jaune got a wonderful view of the pilot also screaming, holding both hands over his face as if he could ward off a car with his bare hands.

The co-pilot slammed his hands over and onto the control stick.

The Bullhead lurched left, swaying perilously and dipping low – losing altitude and almost colliding with the water, barely saving itself at the last second but still thankfully getting out the way.

The huntsman let go as well, weighing his odds between impact with a soon-to-be exploding vehicle and impact with nice soft water below and making the obvious choice. He used his hands and feet to kick off from the car and to the left, accidentally into the path of the Bullhead, which he hadn't predicted to move the same way at all.

He struck the cockpit window and slapped into it face first, obscuring the view of the pilots. More screaming ensued as he held on grimly. The automated windscreen wipers began sweeping, slapping over and over against the side of his face.

The aircraft swerved away, avoiding buildings through sheer luck.

Jaune, Perry, Deery and four other hardened but currently screaming terrorists watched as their battered and bruised bright yellow cab flew over the canal and down toward the other side. It was fifty-fifty on whether they'd be hitting water or the lower road there. Or maybe forty-forty, with twenty per cent reserved for the prospect of hitting the jutting edge of the pier and smashing their car, and themselves, into a million pieces.

The impact _crunched_.

The car teetered back.

"Forward!" Jaune yelped. "Everyone forward!"

Bodies piled in between the front seats and into him, Deery and Perry, squashing them all up as the weight made the car lurch forth and touch down. Perry hit the gas and it slowly climbed up onto the road, wobbling and teetering away as police sirens blared in the distance. The cab rolled to a stop, spluttered, tinkled some important parts onto the floor and died.

The passenger door swung open, creaked, then fell off and clattered onto the tarmac.

Jaune oozed out, sliding onto the floor.

The back doors fell off and several faunus rolled out, laying flat on their backs and gasping for breath, shaking like they'd seen their lives flash before their eyes. They probably had. One of them was kissing the floor.

The driver side open and slammed shut. A pair of heavy boots came around. "Quick thinking, boss. You really saved our bacon."

"Brbl…" Jaune moaned. "I don't feel… I… urk! Blurghhh!"

"Yeah. I feel the same. Sheesh, what a wild ride." The man hauled him up. Jaune dangled limply over his shoulder, throwing up onto the floor behind him. "Alright, you lot. Grab the stash and let's get into the sewers before they gather themselves. Boss – oh, he's passed out. Guess I'll carry him. He's got us this far, boys and girls, we can handle the rest." He pumped one fist in the air. "For the White Fang!"

"For the White Fang!"

Perry pumped it again. "For our new leader!"

"For Jaune!"

As the police scrambled on the bridge and the Bullhead tried to fish the huntsman out the river, the White Fang disappeared into the sewers, new leader in tow.

/-/

Adam Taurus stared up at the ceiling.

Ozpin and Glynda Goodwitch stared back.

"He's dead," she said.

"Yes." Ozpin sipped from his mug. "Quite dead. Qrow failed to capture the perpetrator."

"You should have sent me."

"And Miss Rose may well have been killed. Two attacks on two dust stores in one night; I doubt this is a coincidence. The White Fang and Roman Torchwick are working together. We long suspected it, but this is confirmation."

"And they have new leadership. Is that good or bad?"

"That certainly is the question. Adam Taurus was a monster but a known quantity. We know very little about the one who has taken his place – only that he is powerful and cunning enough to stage a coup and kill a man even Qrow might have struggled against."

"He must be skilled," Glynda said. "Dangerous."

"Very dangerous," Ozpin agreed. "And we don't yet know his motives or his methods, only that he's cunning enough to outwit both the police and Qrow in a single night. We can't afford to take him lightly. The school shall be put on full alert."

Had Adam been capable of it, he might have disagreed. He might have told them that he'd tripped, that he'd messed up, that it was a moment of inattention against a vulnerable opponent that had him failing to hold up his aura at a crucial time.

Adam said nothing.

/-/

Juniper Arc hummed to herself as she spooned out ice-cream for her brood and listened with only half her attention to the TV in the front room. Some excitement or other going down in Vale. Not anything to worry about all the way in Ansel but considering how sleepy and peaceful the village could be, she couldn't blame the girls for craving a little more excitement.

Just like their brother. Juniper sighed.

Stacking bowls on a tray, she carried them back through. The girls were absorbed in the TV, barely even paying attention as she dished out the treats. Amber did, at least, thanking her politely and digging in like she'd not seen sugar in years.

"Anything exciting?"

"White Fang in Vale," Coral said, bright lights reflecting off her glasses as she sat behind Sable, a leg on either side of her twin's shoulders. "Apparently, they robbed a dust store."

"Oh my. I hope no one was hurt."

"Someone was killed – but not anyone worth worrying about."

"Coral!" Lavender gasped. "Even if he was a terrorist, he was still a person."

Coral rolled her eyes.

Curious, Juniper sat down in the seat normally reserved for her and Nicky. He was out on another hunt but the familiar indent his firm body left in the cushions had her curling up with a contented smile, bringing her legs up like she was cuddling against him. On the screen, Lisa Lavender was busy reporting.

"_-streets in chaos as the police, White Fang and huntsman of Vale engaged in a high-pursuit chase though the centre of the city. Fortunately, police were able to divert traffic before an accident could occur."_

The screen showed an overhead view from an aircraft. The footage was grainy, but they could make out a car hurling down the centre of a three-lane highway with several cars in pursuit.

"_In more shocking news, the White Fang appear to be operating under a new leader after the murder of Adam Taurus, long considered a driving force within the White Fang. A witness to the robbery and proprietor of the store attacked spoke of a clinical murder with little regard for loyalty or mercy."_

"Oh my," Juniper said, pressing a hand to her mouth.

An image of Adam Taurus' face appeared, masked and thankfully not attached to a dead body. It was a photoshoot from some other sighting. It was always a shame for someone so young to lose their life, but a small part of her whispered that it was better him than an innocent bystander.

"_Does Taurus' death mean a paradigm shift for the White Fang? What will it mean for the people of our city? One thing is for sure, after killing Adam Taurus and engaging in a gunfight with officers, then dealing with a huntsman of the city and escaping, the risk is greater than ever. The Council is scrambling to crack down and Ozpin of Beacon has spoken to assure the populace that their huntsman will be seeking the one responsible and bringing him to justice."_

"I should hope so," Juniper said. "We can't have people like that running around causing trouble."

"_The city has been placed in lockdown. Traffic in and out will continue, but all residents will be asked to present relevant identification when entering or leaving the city. The Council has said that while they would like to apologise for the disturbance, they ask the people to bear it for now and until this menace is brought to justice."_

"You think Jaune knows anything?" Jade asked. "He's in Vale, isn't he? I wonder if he saw it!"

"I would hope not," Juniper said. "Jaune is a smart young man who wouldn't be caught anywhere near something like this."

"_Thanks to footage captured by Vale and corroboration from a local taxi driver who only just managed to escape with his life, we have been able to identify the new leader of Vale's White Fang, and I have been given permission to share that information."_

A familiar face appeared on the screen.

Juniper choked.

"_Jaune Arc. Non-local to Vale. Seventeen years of age."_ The photo was of Jaune – her son – and was a school photo with him smiling shyly. Now beneath him was the White Fang symbol._ "This man is considered highly dangerous and is not to be approached under any circumstances. Any information on his whereabouts should be passed through to the relevant authorities. I repeat, this man is considered highly dangerous and should be avoided at all costs."_

The girls stared at the screen, no one knowing quite what to say.

A heavy fist slammed on the front door. "This is the police. Open up!"

Juniper's head fell into her hands.

"Damn it, Jaune…"

* * *

**Wait, how could JAUNE kill ADAM!? He has aura!**

**I'm going with the Sienna excuse for this. Because there's no realistic or good explanation for how Jaune could actually beat Adam, I won't be trying to justify it – it simply isn't feasible outside a freak meteor strike. Instead, I'll just be saying it's the same as how Adam killed Sienna. She just for some obscure reason decided **_**not**_** to use her aura when someone is making threatening gestures in front of her.**

**Adam didn't see Jaune as a threat and let his guard down. It happened. **

**I'll be using a lot of established but minor White Fang characters in this where possible. Rooster Teeth actually has a surprising amount of side characters that actually have names and abilities, but only appear for, like, ten seconds or more. They even have their names detailed in the credits. **

**Deery, for instance, is the one who pops up through the train hatch in Mountain Glenn to yell at Team RWBY. Perry is the guy with glasses outside his mask who talks with Roman. Don't worry though, the usual cast will still be around and involved.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 12****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	2. Chapter 2

**Given the nature of the story, comparisons to Arc of the Revolution were probably all but guaranteed. To note, the two stories are very different, however. Arc of the Revolution included a Jaune becoming leader of just about everything (ala Professor Arc style) while this is Jaune solely focused in the White Fang and nothing more. Given the whole getaway scene with the car, I was half expecting people to suggest more "Games we Play" as being similar. **

**Just as a reminder, all faunus introduced in this chapter **_**are**_** canon characters. You'll probably recognise a few but if you don't, you can Google them to see pictures of them from the show.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"I can't believe I died to this…"

Hah? Jaune peered around hazily, lost in a void of black and purple that rotated and swirled together into a messy night sky. Where was he? What was going on? Where had that voice come from? Why did he smell poop?

"Where… am I…?"

"In your mind," the voice behind him said.

Jaune whirled, a scream on his lips. Curiously, it died upon seeing the man stood there, with a white mask, red hair and a huge splotch of red on his neck. He was dressed in a black and red outfit with an empty sheathe at his side. His lips were downturned in a fearsome pout.

"Adam…?"

"You remembered my name. I suppose that's only fair after you kill someone."

Kill? Oh, that was right. There'd been that incident in the dust store with the man and being tackled and the knife and then a lot of screaming, flailing and suddenly the person grappling him going very, very still. He hadn't gotten a good luck at his assailant at the time, being a little too occupied on trying not to die himself.

"How are you here? Am _I_ dead as well?"

"I wish," Adam said sadly. Jaune scowled at him. "But no, you're currently still alive. As for me, I'm either the ghost of the man you killed come back to haunt you or – and much more likely – a guilt induced figment of your imagination."

"That's impossible."

"Why? Because this can't be real? Because you think you don't deserve it?"

"No." Jaune shook his head. "Because I don't feel guilty."

Adam stared at him.

"You piece of shit…"

"Sorry?" It felt like the right thing to say even if he didn't really feel it. Mama Arc always raised him to be polite. "In my defence, you tried to kill me first and I panicked. I mean, am I supposed to feel bad about accidentally killing someone in self-defence?"

"YES!"

"Oh. Well, sorry I'm not?"

"You… You…" Adam grasped at the air uselessly.

A bright light grew and grew behind him. Strange as it was, he knew it was his awakening. The knowledge somehow filtered into his head. "Looks like I'm waking up."

"No, wait. I have things to tell you!"

"How can you tell me anything if you're a figment of my non-existent guilt?"

Adam's mouth fell open. No words came out.

The light engulfed him.

/-/

"Ugh. Hngh…"

Jaune squinted against the sunlight and brought up an arm to shield his eyes. In doing so, he revealed the rather large and aggressive looking spider clinging to the underside of his hand. It peered back.

"Arghhhh!"

The spider flew through the air and hit a stone wall, landed and scuttled away while Jaune jumped up on the bed and squealed like a little girl. All those reminders about spiders being more scared than you had to be lies; otherwise, the spider would have had a heart attack.

Panting on the bed, Jaune looked around, confusion settling in as he saw stone walls dripping with water, a ramshackle tent set up above to provide a ceiling and that his bed was less a bed and more a mattress stacked on some crates.

This wasn't Ansel.

_I'm in Vale,_ he reminded himself. _Here to join Beacon and… and I…_ Memory filtered back, along with a healthy dollop of absolute horror. _The White Fang. Adam._ Ugh, that dream had been so realistic. Except for the part where it thought guilt might be a reasonable thing to feel for the accidental death of someone who tried to kill you.

"Yo, boss!" a familiar voice called. "You okay in there?"

_There_ appeared to be a small chamber in a sewer of some kind. It was round and damp but thankfully higher level than the actual sewage waste. It _did_ smell faintly of crap, explaining what he'd been smelling since consciousness came back. There was no door and rather a tunnel leading out, at the other end of which was a lightly tanned face with a pair of glasses and a huge smile.

"Who are…?"

"Who? Oh right, no mask." The man laughed and tapped his glasses to the side. "It's me, Perry. You okay, boss? I heard you scream."

Perry. The driver. Apart from his glasses there wasn't much else to differentiate him when he was in costume, face hidden by a mask and his reddish hair by a hood. _Which is kind of the point of a disguise, idiot._ In terms of defining faunus features, he couldn't see any at all.

"Boss…?"

"Spider," he said. "On my face." It hadn't been, but a little exaggeration never hurt.

"Ooh. Yeah, sorry about that. Our accommodations here aren't exactly the best. We set up some barriers to stop rats, but nothing stops a determined spider." Perry clambered in with a mug of something steaming in hand. "Luckily, Vale doesn't have any venomous species. Hot chocolate? It'll help get rid of the smell."

Insanity aside of being offered hot chocolate by a terrorist, Jaune took it, warming his hands in an otherwise cold sewer and burying his face in the steam. The scent washed the more horrifying one away. It tasted divine.

"You don't have problems with spiders, do you?"

Jaune shot him a glance. "No more or less than anyone else. Why?"

"No reason. No reason. Just thinking it might be awkward if you were an arachnophobe. How are you feeling? You were pretty out of it yesterday, not that anyone can blame you after fighting Adam, a huntsman and then that landing." Perry rubbed his own shoulder and winced. "We're all a little knocked around after that."

After he'd up and taken part in a robbery? He'd been great! Awesome. Less so now trapped in a sewer with terrorists. Terrorists who thought he was their new leader, however. That was… well, it was bad, obviously, but it meant he got to live.

_I just need to play along until they take me back up to the surface, then I can make an excuse and run to Beacon. Initiation should be in a few days, assuming I've not been asleep for longer._

"How long was I out?"

"Just the night. It's four in the morning right now."

Perfect. He still had time.

But for now, he had to play along.

"What happened after the landing?"

"After you passed out?" Perry laughed. "We basically just retreated down here. With the huntsman in the drink and the Bullhead picking him up, it was a free escape for us. Nice thinking by the way, I still can't believe we got out of that mess."

Thinking? There hadn't been much _thinking_ involved. Jaune looked away. "No problem."

"Hey, if you're up and about how about meeting the others? I mean, you met us last night, but we were all masked at the time. We should get introductions done and then you can have an early breakfast." At the mention of it, Jaune's stomach rumbled. "Looks like you could use it."

He'd been put to bed in his full clothing, so it was only a case of shaking out his boots to make sure there weren't any creepy-crawlies in them and then following Perry back out the tunnel. It wasn't as horrific as he'd expected. The White Fang camp was predominantly in a large circular chamber with two more tunnels leading off on the other end. The sound of sewage moving was audible but through those two tunnels. There was none to be had in their area.

In the room itself, beds had been set up against the back wall along with crates and cases of belongings, but the centre of the room had been turned into a miniature cafeteria of sorts with two ramshackle tables – one of which was an upturned hunk of sheet metal balanced on two beer kegs, a sideways barrel and four boxes stacked on top of one another. Around it, sat either in chairs or atop barrels with cloth draped over them, were four other faunus from before. A fifth (or sixth including Perry) was hunched over a dust-powered stove. One was missing. There was no way the huge guy had been in the car.

"Hey!" A pretty girl with bright blue eyes, reddish-brown hair and white antlers leaned back and waved energetically at them. "Morning boss!"

"Morning." He waved back awkwardly as all eyes turned on him. "Deery?"

A silver-haired girl elbowed Deery in the ribs. "Ooh. He remembered you name."

"More likely he was trying to decide if it was a codename or not," a man said. He had dark brown hair spiked up on top and a goatee. He wore his black uniform down to the elbows and raised a cup in Jaune's direction in silent salute. Behind him, a set of wings were held up against his back. "Believe me, it's her real name. Though what parent could hate their kid enough to call them Deery, I've no ide-ow!" He winced as Deery swatted him.

"No one asked your opinion, Yuma!"

"Ah. So violent…"

"Like you didn't deserve it," the silver-haired girl said. When she turned toward Jaune, he was surprised to see strange markings travelling up the small amount of chest she exposed. Like roots or veins, but grey in colour. They didn't seem to bother her; he pulled his eyes up to her blue ones before she could notice. "Welcome to our dysfunctional little family. I'm Trifa."

"Oh. Uh. Jaune. Nice to meet you."

"One word in and he's already friendlier than Adam."

"Not like that'd be a challenge. In case you didn't catch it, I'm Yuma. Fresh in from Menagerie along with Trifa here." He punched the girl's shoulder and she rolled her eyes. "You already know Perry and Deery. They're more recent additions to our merry band. Then there's the old guard," He pointed to the remaining two at the table, an older man with black hair and long sideburns. "This is Tukson."

The man bowed his head and grunted, "Charmed."

"Wasn't there another?" Jaune asked.

"Yeah. I'll let her introduce herself later. She snuck out to get a heads-up on what's going on in the city and to report back to the Khan about Adam and you. The White Fang has to report back on stuff like a change in leadership."

Change in leadership. That was a very polite way to say he'd murdered Adam. He couldn't tell if they were willing to accept him because he'd bailed them out of their problem or because no one wanted to challenge the guy who beat the previous boss.

"Oi. You forgot Bane!" Deery chastised. Jumping to her feet, she took one of Jaune's hands in two of hers and dragged him toward the absolute giant of a man hunched over the stove. "Bane, introduce yourself."

The faunus rose.

And rose again, then a third time for good measure, until he was towering over Jaune so much that he was developing a neck cramp just looking up at him. Seven feet? Seven and a half? He'd always thought himself pretty tall but this guy. Holy shit. _He could crush my head with one hand._ And in fact, the man's hand was moving toward his neck as it was. Jaune scrunched his eyes shut.

Large fingers touched his collar, pushing something through it. "There," a deep voice said softly.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. Flowers and herbs. Opening his eyes, he noticed a small bundle of dried leaves had been pinned to his hoodie, or the small part of it peeking up from his armour. It was aromatic, immediately washing out the stench of the sewers. He noticed the giant had one as well.

"For the smell," the man said, a soft and almost shy smile stretching over his face. He had a scar running down one eye, another sideways across the bridge of his nose. His upper lip was missing a chunk as well, locking his neutral expression into something of a scowl. But that smile; it was paradoxically the sweetest and most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.

Jaune looked down to the herbs and then back up at the man. "Thank you."

"No. Thank you."

He blinked. "What for?"

Slowly, the giant pointed to the others at the table. "Safe." He pointed then to Jaune. "Thank you."

"Bane is an absolute sweetie," Deery said, hugging onto the man's huge arm. He probably could have bench pressed her. "He's also a florist, hence the potpourri. This place would be way too stinky to live in without him. He's our resident chef, too."

The large man looked away. His cheeks had begun to turn pink.

Despite his best efforts, Jaune couldn't help but stare. Cute. There was no way someone like that should have been, but he was. _What parallel universe have I walked into where seven-foot terrorists are shy florists? Aren't these guys supposed to be hardened criminals?_

Perry clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, you've met the family – he's Banesaw, by the way, but that his SDC-given name. He prefers Bane. You were probably expecting more people, I know. There _are_ more, but we're the core."

"Core…?"

"The White Fang has sects," Trifa explained, slapping the table for him to sit down.

Jaune took a seat opposite.

"Refill?" Yuma offered, holding a battered thermos up.

Jaune nodded. "Please."

While Yuma poured, Trifa continued, "The White Fang is more a volunteer group than a profession. Most members have lives outside the job and just show up to fight the good fight. We're the core – the people who run the Vale sect of the White Fang. All the planning, organisation and logistics work through us."

"It's safer that way," Yuma said, carrying on where his partner left off. "Less people who might betray or let us down. The less people who know the identities of those in charge, the safer everyone is. That's what went wrong with the Vale sect before we arrived."

Jaune sipped his hot chocolate. "Went wrong?"

Tukson pushed his seat back and stood. "I've stayed for introductions. I've got a shop to run." He walked away, though not without a quick, "Call me if you need me."

The others let him go.

"What's his problem?" Jaune asked.

"He's one of the old guard," Yuma said, making sure Tukson was gone before he started speaking. "Simply put, the White Fang sect here was infiltrated and destroyed. Tukson and Bane were the only survivors. From there, they picked up Deery and Perry from promising cadets and started to rebuild."

"That's why Adam, Yuma and I came here," Trifa said. "The sect here needed help, specifically with leadership." She sighed and leaned back. "It's also why we're living in a freaking sewer of all places. The old base was lost when the huntsmen raided it. Back to square one. What a drag."

"Hey now, it's not all bad," Deery said. "Besides, we have Jaune now!" She raised her mug. "To our new leader, long may he lead the White Fang to victory."

Trifa, Perry and Yuma raised their drinks. "Cheers!"

Jaune echoed it weakly.

Bane came back and placed some food down before them all. Omelette with vegetables and ham; he'd made little smiley faces on the omelette with ketchup. It smelled delicious. Rather than sit on a seat – not that any could take him – he knelt beside the table, which still had him sitting at a similar height to all of them.

"Enjoy," he whispered.

"If it's your cooking, Bane, I'll enjoy it until the day I die!" Yuma said grandly. He dug in without a second thought. "Hm. So good!"

It _was_ good, Jaune realised. The egg was soft and fluffy, lightly spiced. Mom was a good cook but more in the sense of being able to cook a lot of food to an adequate level. Tasty and hearty, but nothing special. This…? This was different. It danced on his tongue.

"Good, isn't it?" Deery said, sitting beside him. "We'd be doomed without Bane to look after us."

"We're not exactly living the high life as it is," Perry sighed. "We really need a base of operations aboveground, and probably some more followers. Our support base has been shot ever since the old guard were rooted out. People haven't felt safe joining up since."

Maybe the people were just starting to realise it was a bad idea to become terrorists, Jaune felt like saying. It wasn't like he could fault them seeing as his plan was to scoot the very second they took their eyes off him. Hm. It'd be a shame to leave this food behind but no, no, he was going to join Beacon. _I suppose as thanks for helping me, I can choose not to reveal their identities. It's not like anyone was hurt when they robbed that dust store._

Adam's dead body flashed through his mind.

_Anyone that matters._

They could go on with trying to run their little group and he could go to Beacon. Honestly, they were probably better off without him anyway. And he was _definitely_ better off without them. All he needed to do was wait for them to take him up above.

"So," he said, trying to act casual, "How do you guys get food down here? Do you just send someone up to buy it?"

"Pretty much," Perry said. "Deery and I still have identities here in Vale so it's not too hard for us. Trifa and Yuma don't have records here and snuck in with Adam, so it's a bad idea for them to wander around alone."

Trifa smiled and shrugged, by far the more easily recognisable due to her strange markings. Yuma was no better with his wings and it was clear why both had to stay hidden. While Deery's horns couldn't be hidden, she probably wasn't as well-known a figure while Tukson, Perry and Banesaw showed no faunus attributes at all. Unless height was one for Bane. Bear faunus?

"I see." Jaune leaned forward. "Do you need my help with the next shopping run?"

"Um." Perry looked to Trifa who looked to Yuma who looked to Bane who looked to Deery who looked back to Perry again. Coming full circle, Perry cringed. "That's… not exactly a good idea, boss. I mean, you weren't exactly wearing a mask last night."

On account of not being a terrorist, yes. "What of it?"

"I've a newspaper here," Yuma said, reaching behind him. He tossed the slightly mouldy paper down on the table. On it, Jaune's own face stared back at him. "Congratulations. You made the front page."

Vale's most wanted. New leader of the White Fang. Highly dangerous. International criminal. Do not approach. Call the police on any sighting. Reward for information leading to his capture. Murderer. Criminal. Terrorist. Highly dangerous.

_Well,_ Jaune thought, hysteria kicking in. _That's going to put a cramp in my plans to join Beacon, isn't it?_

/-/

Perry, Bane and Deery departed to the surface, leaving him, Trifa and Yuma behind. Oh, they were all very sweet about it, promising to bring back food, drink and some better bedding – even a television so they could make the best of things. That didn't do much to reach Jaune, who sat almost catatonic after the news.

He was a terrorist.

_It's a misunderstanding. I was dragged into it and they assumed I wanted to be. I'm as much a victim as the guy whose shop was robbed._

Would that matter? If people found him, they were advised to not come close and call the police – likely the huntsmen, too. That was fine, right? He didn't have anything to hide so it wasn't like they could imprison him. He'd go to court, tell his story and everyone would realise this was one big misunderstanding.

Right? Right!?

There was no way they'd just assume.

Right…?

The dripping water was his only answer.

"Maybe it'd be best if I prove my innocence before handing myself in…"

If he didn't, there was a chance they'd throw him in prison without asking. According to the article, his family had already been arrested for questioning. Once they convinced the police he'd never do something like this, that ought to set the groundwork for him to contact someone important and proclaim his innocence.

"No way they'd actually think I could be a terrorist once they find out more about me." He had to laugh at the thought, the mere idea that someone like him could lead the White Fang. Once they checked his background and talked to his parents, they'd realise something was up. "I just have to last that long. That's fine. How bad can it be?"

Sure, he was living in a sewer with terrorists, but they were relatively normal and un-terrorist-like when the masks were off. They joked and talked like normal people. He hadn't heard anything about roasting the humans alive yet. They hadn't even asked what type of faunus he was. Or if he was one. They were a whole lot less psychotic than he'd have thought.

Then again, they probably thought the same about him since he'd killed Adam.

"It'll be fine. One, two weeks tops, and this'll have all blown over. And I bet they'd take me into Beacon as an apology for falsely labelling me like this." That was the kind of thing that could ruin his life. "Or for killing Adam. That's the kind of thing a huntsman does."

Beating the bad guys, saving the city – the usual. Technically, he'd done the same, even if in the doing he'd had to also beat a huntsman.

_I didn't kill him, though. That has to count for something._

With a heavy sigh, he fell back on his mattress and stared up at the ceiling. The people above would be going about their lives right now, completely unaware of the people living beneath them. Somewhere up there, Deery, Perry and Bane would be slipping back into their roles among the populace, unknown to the people around them.

Jaune closed his eyes.

"I hope mom and the girls are alright…"

/-/

"Did his family speak?"

"What?" Ozpin asked. "You don't want to talk about last night, Qrow? I have a lovely written apology here from the Bullhead pilots who flew into you." His lips tugged up. "It even includes a little line about how they're sorry engaging the windscreen wipers to get rid of you, and that it was instinct more than intent."

Qrow growled under his breath, face red. "I don't want to talk about it!"

"Such a shame. It was recorded, you know? I have a lovely video…"

"Show that to Taiyang and I'll make sure to aim my next avian bowel movement for your head when you're out in public. What did the parents say? I've seen the pictures; that's definitely the kid that attacked me."

Ozpin's smile slipped away.

"Yes, it appears it is." He moved some papers on his desk, revealing various photographs of Jaune Arc taken him his family home. "The footage taken of the chase supports it. The Bullhead cameras were able to get a perfect shot of him when you pulled him from the vehicle."

Qrow took the photo offered. It showed him with wide eyes, in the process of buckling over with a briefcase of dust swung up between his legs. Also on the photo was the boy responsible, holding onto said briefcase. He was so young, the same age as Yang, and yet here he was, leading a band of dangerous terrorists. As much as his pride stung, he felt bad for the kid's parents.

"How are they taking it? His family…?"

"Defiantly. I've not spoken to them myself, but they refuse to accept what is being told. They're free, of course. As soon as no evidence was found to show their involvement, all charges were dropped. That said, they're not best pleased. It seems that none of them are ready to believe what he has become."

That spoke well of them in Qrow's mind. He knew what it was like to have a sibling throw away everything they had to become a monster, and how hard it was to accept. _Glad it's not my job to show them the bad news._

"There is something more," Ozpin said. He rummaged through a set of files in his top drawer. "The name, Jaune Arc, was familiar and I was trying to figure out why. Then I remembered this." He pushed the file over. "An application to join Beacon this year."

Qrow took it and was wholly unsurprised to see the same face staring back at him.

"He wanted to join…"

"Indeed. Likely an infiltration attempt by the White Fang, and one that may well have been successful but for the tip-off that allowed us to catch them in the act. Take solace, Qrow. As embarrassing as your loss may have been, it prevented him from attending Beacon alongside your nieces."

Shit. Wasn't that something to think of? A monster like that with Ruby and Yang.

"These transcripts. You looked into them?"

"I did after his reveal, yes. They're all of them fake and the schools he listed have disavowed any knowledge of him. Quite thoroughly, I might add. They even allowed me to remotely access their student database. There is no record of Jaune Arc having any training whatsoever. According to his mother, his father also refused to train him."

"He killed Adam Taurus…"

"I know. And that man would not go down easily. Obviously, Mr Arc found his training elsewhere – and with a group he really ought not to have fallen in with. Who knows what they did to convince him to join their cause, or why they would accept someone who is, as far as we can tell, not a faunus at all."

"You sure?" Qrow asked, leafing through the information. "He has _seven_ siblings. You sure there isn't a little bit of rabbit faunus in there?"

"There may be. Half-faunus children can often fail to show any features. Regardless, the fact he wished to infiltrate Beacon has me concerned. Is there a deeper meaning to it, or was he simply looking for a plausible cover story for his being in Vale?"

"You think more might have tried?"

"I think it a possibility. One I am hesitant to ignore…"

There were a whole lot of faunus students in Beacon; the school didn't involve itself in matters of race where it could. To think that any of those might be working alongside the new leader was a dangerous path to take. You could well end up alienating innocent faunus with that kind of attitude. On the other hand, if Ozpin were to ignore it and ill _did_ fall on the students as a result. Well, that'd be just as bad. And their fault.

"I'll look into backgrounds more," Ozpin decided. "It's the best I can do. I'll warn Glynda, Bart and Peter to be alert, but I won't countenance a witch hunt through the school. I simply will not allow it. Qrow."

Qrow stood taller. "Yes?"

"Find this boy." He tapped the image. "Find and capture him before he has a chance to make his mark upon the White Fang. Use whatever methods you must, but with the Vytal Festival this year we cannot afford to let something like this pass. I'm putting you in charge of dealing with this. Anything you need, come to me. This problem must be nipped in the bud."

It wasn't like Ozpin to be so worked up over things, though he supposed risking the students made it a little more personal. It was for him as well, seeing how Beacon wasn't only his first real home but also where Yang and Ruby would be spending the next couple of years.

"I'll see it done."

/-/

"It appears that Adam is dead."

"As a doornail," the obnoxious man beside her parroted. "Sleeping with the fishes, six feet under, bought out the farm, gone to a better place. He's about as dead as they come – and with his body left behind for the authorities, too. Cold."

"Thank you, Roman."

Cinder pinched the bridge of her nose and reminded herself for the umpteenth time that Roman did good work in bringing in dust while also covering her own, far more subtle, ventures into Vale. He was a necessary evil. A very necessary evil.

Such did not make him any less smug, or easier to put up with.

"We had an agreement with Adam," Emerald prompted. "Is that going to be up in the air now he's dead?"

A valid question, albeit a needless one. Emerald would need to be punished later for exposing even a momentary weakness to Roman. As expected, he was suddenly paying a lot more attention. Cinder sighed and set the newspaper aside and picked up a glass of red wine. Emerald meant well but was so clumsy at times. If she wasn't such a forgiving master, she might have disposed of the girl long ago.

"It need not be," she said, exuding confidence for Roman's sake. If he smelt blood in the water, he would be on it in a flash. "Our agreement with Adam involved the White Fang as a whole. If they desire access to our resources and our dust, they will still need to accommodate our requests. And, of course, our goals intersect. I do not believe Adam's death will matter much in the grand scheme of things."

"You sure about that?" Roman asked. "This new guy offed Adam and took over. That's an ambitious play; he may not like playing second fiddle to you."

Ambitious indeed, and yet it was the ambitious men who were so easy to control. It was all just a matter of finding out what it was they wanted and dangling that over their heads. Cinder hummed and ran a finger around the rim of her glass.

They needed the White Fang. Their numbers would be necessary for the plan, and from there her eventual victory. It was… inconvenient that Adam should die, but then, he had never been the easiest to manipulate. His emotions ran too hot and too high, clouding his judgement. While she'd been able to turn that to mutual benefit, there had always been the concern he might fun wild like the bull he was. This new leader was a crisis, but also an opportunity.

Depending on how she worked it.

"I'll just have to meet with him, shan't I? Congratulate our new colleague on his unexpected promotion."

"And if he doesn't fall in line?" Mercury asked.

Ah, such a good boy. He'd seen Roman's mannerisms and realised what they meant – and now sought to set her up for the perfect response to remind Roman just why he should follow her every command. Cinder hid her smile in a sip of wine.

"If he doesn't, I'm sure the _next_ leader to take over shall be more… open minded."

Roman swallowed and tipped his hat, hiding his eyes.

Message delivered.

/-/

"Adam is dead."

"Alas," Sienna said with a remarkable lack of grief, or an ironclad control over her emotions. "Such is a loss that the White Fang will be mourning. He truly was the best of us."

"Yes," the girl on the other end replied, equally toneless. "He will be missed." A brief silence. "Anyway, we've got a new leader – the guy who did him in, actually. I'm not sure what kind of faunus he is but he obviously is one since he helped us and all."

"I'm sure." Sienna Khan tapped her nails on the armrest of her throne. "And he sounds quite competent if what I've heard is true. Do Yuma and Trifa vouch for him?"

"They seemed pretty pleased with his performance."

"Very well. I shall allow him to lead you for now – but you shall be my eyes and ears among them. Make sure he knows that you are watching, that you will be judging. And that if ill should befall you in a suspicious manner, I will not be pleased."

"Yes, Khan. I'll see it done. What about Adam's body?"

"What about it? His spirit is gone, his life a memory. He will live on in the hearts of all of us." Sienna yawned. "Or something like that. Once we have our victory, I'll have someone erect a statue of him. Perhaps a whole range in his honour. He can sit at the foot of people's gardens and scowl menacingly at the neighbourhood cats." She smirked. "I'm sure he'd like that."

There were many among the White Fang who _would_ mourn the death of Adam Taurus. Many who saw him as the next in line to replace Sienna or the greatest of them, what they should all aspire to be. And then there were those who had _other reasons_ to dislike him. For Sienna, it was simply common sense, especially with so many suggesting she be `removed` in favour of him.

For Ilia Amitola, it was far less acceptable reasons.

"You will be second-in-command within Vale, Ilia," Sienna said. "And you will answer only to me. Ensure your new commander's position does not go to his head and warn him that I will be expecting results. Report back to me in a week. I will expect progress."

"Yes, Sienna." Ilia bowed to the screen. "I shall see it done."

* * *

**Well, that's the "meet the cast" chapter out the way. I'm sure everyone remembers most of the faunus, but if you don't then here are their appearances:**

**Perry – Train in Mountain Glenn**

**Deery – Train in Mountain Glenn and also Roman's rally**

**Banesaw – Dude with chainsaw who fought Weiss**

**Tukson – Record holder for fastest appearance to death so far in RWBY **

**Trifa – Spider faunus in Menagerie**

**Yuma – Bat faunus in Menagerie**

**Ilia – Stalker in Menagerie**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 26****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go again. This is coming out a little sooner in the day than usual as I have to go out later on for a work seminar**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 3**

* * *

"You must continue my life's work."

"I'd really rather not."

"You must," Adam insisted. "Since you're the one who killed me."

"Can't we just forget that happened?" Jaune pleaded of the figment of his imagination. It was _his_ imagination and _his_ dream, so the spirit should have turned into candy or a hot naked lady by now. Apparently, lucid dreaming wasn't his forte.

"No. We cannot _just forget_ you killed me. You murdered me!"

"It was self-defence. It's more… manslaughter?"

"You manslaughtered me!"

"That's not the point I was making…"

Adam pointed at him imperiously. "It doesn't matter. You have taken my life and now you have taken my position within the White Fang. You must see change delivered or forever be haunted by the guilt of what you have done."

Jaune gasped. "In what way…?"

"Me," Adam deadpanned. "I am the guilt. I am the haunting. I'd have thought that was obvious by now..."

"Oh." Jaune lowered his arms. As far as ghosts went, he'd always imagined them to be a little scarier. Knives for hands or the like. Adam was fairly run of the mill. "Wait, you're the spirit of guilt? But I don't feel guilty…"

Adam glared his way.

"So…" Jaune kicked at the shadowy nothingness that was the floor of what he assumed was his mind. It probably said a lot that it was a big empty space with not much going on. "Any advice? If you're real, I mean. I'm in the White Fang now apparently. What do I do?"

"Kill the humans."

"Okay, never mind. Not sure why I thought asking the person who isn't even real. You're just a psycho because I don't know what the real Adam was like and assume you to be like this. I'm sure the _real_ Adam was more than just wanting to massacre people."

"I take offence at that."

"I need to prove to everyone I'm innocent!"

"You killed me."

"I need to show them I didn't do anything wrong and that this is all just a misunderstanding."

"Stabbed me right through the throat."

"And they'll see I'm just a normal guy with nothing to hide."

"Just… left my body. Right there. Bleeding on the floor."

"Once they see that, they'll let me go and I'll get to become a huntsman." He slammed his fist into an open hand. "And the first step to that is showing that I'm different from you! That I'm not Adam Taurus."

"I _wish_ we were more alike," Adam complained, "Because then you'd be dead."

"I'm going to reform this branch of the White Fang."

"What?"

"I'm going to reform them," he repeated. "I'll make it clear that we do things differently, non-violently, and from there we'll show the people of Vale that we're not terrorists. We'll become a civil rights group instead."

"You're not very well read on history, are you?"

"Be quiet, figment."

The plan, hasty as it was, would work perfectly. He was only a wanted criminal because they thought he was a murderous psycho, but if he proved he was a more peaceful leader, they'd lower their guard. Or at least stop painting him as a dangerous terrorist. From there, he could retire from the group without being arrested.

"They won't believe me if I just _say_ we're reformed. I'll need to prove it." He winced. "_We'll_ need to prove it. The White Fang and me both. Luckily, it only needs to be the White Fang in the Vale sect, so I only have to deal with the six of them."

"You intend to neuter the White Fang."

"In a manner of speaking."

"I will not allow it."

"Adam…" Jaune stared at him, genuinely curious. "How are you going to stop me?"

"…" Adam crossed his arms. "I despise you."

"The feeling is mutual."

/-/

Trifa yawned, batting away one of Yuma's wings as he stretched the sleep out, spreading them in her direction without really meaning to. It was a common enough thing that she didn't get bothered by it anymore. He couldn't control it anymore than she could the blackened veins that ran up and down her arms and chest creeping people out.

"Sorry," he muttered, yawning into his hand and pulling his wing back.

"S'alright." His yawn forced another from her, which pulled another from him. The mutual yawn-off continued until both dragged themselves out of the ratty beds in the sewer – no _actual_ rats thankfully – and toward the street-sign-turned-table in the middle. The hulking figure of Banesaw was already hard at work over a portable stove. "Morning, Bane."

"Hngh," the giant replied, focused on the sizzling of eggs.

Yuma sniffed the air. "Is that bacon?"

"Yes." Bane's voice was soft. "Bought above. Thought of you."

"You're our hero," Trifa replied, leaning an elbow on the table and directing a smile at his back. "I thought you had a life up top, though? You don't need to spend so much time down here with us sewer dwellers."

Bones creaked as the giant man rose up, turning with a plate in each hand. He was wearing an apron this morning, a long and yellow thing that only reached down to his thighs. On the front, a bumblebee was holding a frying pan and beneath that, words in black spelled out: _The Bee's Knees._

"Um. Looking very cute there, Bane."

"Thank you." He placed the plates down before them, two fried eggs arranged like eyes, a strip of bacon for a smiley mouth and two triangular pieces of slices toast formed ears like a culinary animal face. "It was a gift from Deery."

There was a third plate set at the table, but Bane didn't sit down. "Not joining us?"

"Already eaten. This is for our leader."

The smell must have summoned said leader because he appeared out the tunnel to his room – really more of a chamber – and sniffed at the air. "Morning," he said, striding forward and drawing out a traffic cone with the top cut off and replaced with a cushion, and sitting down. "Hm. This smells amazing. Thanks, Ba-"

He paused.

"Um. Nice apron?"

Bane smiled bashfully. "Thank you."

"Did someone make you wear it?"

"No. I like it. It's pretty."

"A-Ah. Yeah, it is." Jaune looked back to his food and ate without questioning further.

Banesaw watched over them like a fussy parent, making sure they finished everything. It wasn't a difficult task given the lack of vegetables. Trifa finished hers slowly while Yuma wolfed his down, patted his stomach and would have burped if not for her elbow finding its home in her side.

"So," Jaune said suddenly. "I've been thinking…"

Trifa turned her head to listen – he was their boss now after all, and so far he was easier to get along with than Adam. Yuma continued to yawn, but she knew he was listening as well. He just had a thing about not wanting to seem _too_ respectful. It wasn't quite a top-dog attitude, more a not-bottom-dog one. He always followed orders when it was important but didn't like to be seen to roll over for them. Trifa never asked why. Everyone had their quirks – you kind of had to in order to feel becoming a terrorist was a good idea.

"We need to recruit more people to the White Fang, right?"

"Would be a good idea," Yuma said.

"And the reason that's so difficult is because of how risky the work is," he went on. "Anyone who joins knows that they'll be arrested if they're caught and the police are out for us in force. Huntsmen, too."

"The risk involved would impact recruitment," Trifa agreed. "Though it would also mean we're more likely to get volunteers who are truly dedicated. Good and bad. Lower numbers but less time wasters."

"But potentially more traitors."

Trifa nodded. That was a given.

"So, I had a bit of an idea on how to fix a bunch of those problems at once," Jaune said.

Oh? That was interesting. Trifa leaned in, as did Bane and Yuma, though he tried to act like he wasn't.

"What if – and hear me out here – we change our approach to be more peaceful."

Trifa blinked.

Yuma snorted. "What?"

"Hear me out," Jaune said again. "We can't operate easily because of the huntsmen, and the huntsmen are after us because we're a huge threat to the people of Vale, or so they believe. If we _change_ that, then they'll lessen the pressure on us, which would let us act more freely. It's the perfect way to take the heat off us!"

"Like a smokescreen," Yuma said, slapping his hand on the table. "Make them think we're no threat and then BAM! We strike when their guard is down."

"No, no. No striking." Jaune waved his hands in the air. "That's bad for our image."

"Oh. I get you." Yuma clicked his tongue, pointed at the boss and winked. "No striking. Not until the time is right."

"No, I… actually, fine. Yes. When the time is right." He muttered something under his breath. "But my point is that we need to change the way the people of the city see us right now, and the best way to do that is to stop being terrorists."

"We can't just stop being terrorists," Trifa pointed out. "It's not an opt-out thing on a form…"

"Well, no, but we can stop acting like terrorists."

Trifa looked to Yuma and shrugged. He shrugged back.

"You're the boss," she said. "If you think this is the best route, this is the best route." It _would_ lower Vale's guard. Assuming they bought the act. It wasn't like they hadn't done similar before, either. In Menagerie, the White Fang was known as a terrorist group but was careful to never act like one, always following the local laws and helping faunus out, all the better to swell their ranks and appear like sympathetic freedom fighters.

It didn't sound like the boss was suggesting much different.

"So what," Yuma said, "Does this make us some kind of humanitarian group now?"

Trifa coughed.

"Sorry. Faunitarian group."

"Sure." Jaune nodded excitedly. "We're going to change the way the White Fang is seen in the city – and that starts with our actions aboveground. No more attacking innocent people and definitely no killing. We want zero deaths to our name."

"One," Bane said.

"What?"

"One," he repeated, pointing at Jaune. "Adam."

"O-Oh. Right. Ha Ha." The blond faunus scratched his head. "Yeah, one. No more, though. And _definitely_ no one on the side of the law. No huntsmen or police. We're going to work on being seen as a _nice_ and _approachable_ group of people who aren't evil in any way."

"Until they let their guard down," Yuma said.

"I… we… argh… Yes. Until then. But not before I say so!"

"Course, boss." Yuma laughed and kicked his feet up onto the table. He put them down again when Bane frowned meaningfully. "A-Alright, so I guess we can tell Perry, Deery and Tukson when they get back. Not like they're going to do anything stupid up top in civvies. Someone will have to tell Ilia, though."

Jaune looked confused. "Ilia?"

"Our final member," Trifa explained, "And I'll tell her."

It would be easier for her to explain it than their new boss, who didn't seem to have the same past experience from Menagerie. What he'd suggested was exactly the same as back home, but it _almost sounded_ like he was suggesting they go legit, which was obviously insane. Ilia might react badly if she thought that was the case.

_I may as well save him the drama,_ she thought. _We all have to work together for this._

"Okay." Jaune nodded. "Thanks, Trifa."

"No problem. Do you have any idea what out first moves will be?"

"Oh. I… well, I still need to finalise some ideas I have knocking around." He tapped the side of his head. "But I'll get back to you when I do. I guess we need to do something soon, don't we?"

"It'd be advisable," Yuma said. "Otherwise, our last impression is going to stick."

"Right. That would be bad…"

"Yeah, you did kill Adam."

"I don't need to be reminded of that, Yuma."

"Like, murdered him real good."

"Thank you, Yuma!"

/-/

"He wants to turn us soft?"

"No." Trifa shook her head and Ilia calmed down immediately, taking the other loyalist's calm response as a sign she was overreacting. "He's suggesting we do as Sienna does in Menagerie and provide an open front of working within the confines of the law. At least publicly."

"Ahhh." That made a lot more sense. "That's not going to be easy here, Trifa. Menagerie is far away from the CCTs and the propaganda. This is Vale. The general opinion towards us is bad enough as it is. I'm not sure some good behaviour now will change anything."

"I feel the same way, but it's not our position to argue. Is it?"

No. it wasn't. Sienna had all but given their new boss the go ahead, and if Ilia was being honest, she didn't really want to challenge him anyway. For one, she didn't want to lead. That looked way too stressful. Secondly, she didn't want to tangle with a person who killed Adam. Unarmed.

"I guess it's better than Adam's idea of just brute forcing everything," she said.

"Safer," Trifa agreed. "For all of us."

"Yeah. I mean, I miss Adam."

"As do I." Trifa sounded bored. "Naturally."

"He'd want us to stay strong though."

"Hide our grief," Trifa agreed again. "It will be hard," she said, stone-faced, "But somehow, I think we shall manage."

"Yeah. We're strong like that. Anyway, I better go introduce myself properly. What's he like?"

"Amicable," Trifa said. "Easy to get along with. Very un-Adam-like."

Un-Adam-like sounded promising. Much more promising than Adam. And if his ideas for their eventual takeover over of Vale were going to involve less charging into overwhelming firepower and sacrificing their own people, Ilia felt she might be able to get behind a change in leadership. Provided it worked, of course. Sienna was expecting results.

_Well, she'll like the sound of him using subtler tactics than Adam at any rate. Might even be flattered that he's taking a leaf out of her book. _There were times Ilia wished she could serve under Sienna instead of Adam.

Preferably _underneath_ Sienna.

Rawr.

"Focus, Ilia. White Fang now. Felines later." Moving through the sewer, she made her way to the area reserved for their new and glorious leader, who had so far managed to survive in Vale a whole evening longer than Adam had. She knocked on the wall with her fist. "Hello. It's Ilia. I've come to introduce myself?"

Not the best intro she had to admit, but what was she supposed to say?

"Come in!"

Stepping through the doorway and into the room, Ilia looked to the blonde head of hair sat on the bed. He was reading his scroll – no doubt keeping abreast of the news above and planning their next move. Adam often did the same. What Adam _didn't_ do was look up and smile almost shyly at her. "Hi. I'm Jaune."

Taken aback, she replied, "Ilia…"

"I guess we've met before. You were one of the ones in the car, right?"

"Yes." The car. That horrible, horrible experience. It wasn't his fault – more Perry's for that frankly horrific driving. It all worked out in the end, even if she had the sinking feeling she'd developed a phobia of moving vehicles.

_Stop standing there like an idiot, Ilia. Be official._

Straightening, she coughed into her hand. "Ilia Amitola. I am – was – Adam's second in command. I'm also the link between this sect and Sienna Khan." A quick reminder she was important in case he decided to deal with her like he had Adam. "I still answer to you, though, sir."

"You don't have to call me sir. And yeah, that's fine. If you're second in command, then you know what the current plans are for the White Fang, right?"

"Each sect is independent in how it manages itself. If there's an overarching plan, then Sienna would be the only one who knows it. Adam was working with someone here. I never got to meet them, but they might make themselves known."

"More White Fang?"

"I don't think so. He wouldn't have been so secretive about it if that was the case." Ilia shrugged. "I'm sorry. I don't know any more than that."

"That's fine."

Forgiving, too? Adam would have shot a quick insult her way if nothing else, or even a veiled comment that such ineptitude was why Blake never looked her way. All she could ever do was grit her teeth and remind herself this was for the greater good.

_I can't tell if he's genuinely this nice or just trying to get me to let my guard down._

That may have sounded paranoid, but according to Trifa that was the plan he'd come up with for Vale – so why not expect him to use it on them as well? Not every leader was going to rule through brute force like Adam. Some inspired. Some bribed. Others manipulated. Honestly, she'd prefer any of those to Adam just throwing his weight around like a bull.

"I have some reports on our most immediate problems," she offered. "If you'd like to hear them?"

"Sure." He turned to face her fully. "I guess I might as well start with those."

"Okay. Our first two issues are manpower and accommodation. The two go hand in hand because we obviously can't do much with just the eight of us, but we can't recruit more people if we're operating out of a sewer. That doesn't inspire confidence in recruits."

"Can you move about aboveground?" he asked.

"Yes." Ilia let her skin colour flash between a few colours proudly. "I'm an expert at blending in and changing my appearance. The only ones who can't be seen are Yuma and Trifa. And you," she added. "Sorry, sir."

"I can't spend all my time down here…"

He had a point. If he was going to hide away, then anyone they tried to recruit would have a low opinion of him. "I can see about finding you a disguise?" she offered. It wouldn't be easy, but it was doable.

"Could you?" He stepped up and took both her hands in his, smiling brightly. "That'd be great, Ilia."

"I… well, I… um. Sure?"

He let go of her hands and Ilia wiped them on her sleeves, not quite sure what to make of a White Fang leader who was quite so touchy. If only he was a cute girl. Or even just had hair a little longer. He was already quite feminine in his appearance. Black hair would be nice, too. Ilia shook herself off before she needed a cold shower.

_Damn I miss Blake's ass - assistance. I meant assistance._

And her personality, naturally.

"I'll see what I can do, bo- Jaune. Aside from numbers, we also need to establish a reputation in the city. Trifa tells me you want that to be a more positive one than in other Kingdoms."

"Will that be a problem?"

"Not really. We're antagonistic in Atlas and Mistral, but we have experience being more friendly in Vacuo and Menagerie. That usually depends on the climate and attitude toward faunus. Atlas is racist and oppressive, so we act out. Vacuo is laidback, and so are we."

"How does Vale fit in that?"

"A little bit in the middle," she admitted. "Your faunus traits aren't obvious, so I guess you never experienced it." He coughed and looked embarrassed for some reason. Ah. _those_ kinds of faunus traits. Interesting. "I was able to hide mine as well." Much to her everlasting guilt. "Faunus aren't _hated_ here, but there are some who try to undermine that. There are labour laws protecting us, but they're barely ever enforced and faunus are generally seen as being cheap and easy labour. The Council is currently proposing a law to prevent faunus working in food-related industries for fear of ears and tails contaminating food…"

"Wouldn't that be a real problem? With fur, I mean?"

"No more than hair," she pointed out. "Humans with long hair can wear hairnets. It's not like those same nets don't also cover ears. And tails can be tucked away."

"Huh. Good point."

Feeling a little more confident, Ilia piped up. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"Of course. I'll listen."

Wow. A leader who listened. She hadn't thought those existed.

"If you want to make an impression then you need to move quickly. People will already be making their minds up as to you right now, and that's the you that killed Adam, stole dust and outran the police and a huntsman. If you want to change that, you'll need to do something to counter it. And fast."

/-/

He had to do something.

Jaune bit his lip and tried not to look too uncertain to Ilia, the faunus who had been watching him with an almost predatory gaze since the moment she faced him. Her body was tense, like she was a second from jumping forward and attacking him. It was nerve-wracking.

_She's not wrong, though. It's a miracle I've managed to convince them to go peaceful – even if they just think it's a trick – but no one is going to believe me if I don't start somewhere._

Worse of all, the White Fang wouldn't believe him. His very survival relied on them believing he was an effective and active leader, which meant he couldn't hide in a sewer and hope all the drama up top died down. It wasn't going to.

_Think, Jaune. What would a humanitarian – sorry, Faunitarian – group do?_

Help people.

"Charity," he decided. "We need to do a charity."

"We can't exactly register as an official charitable body. You need to sign forms for that…"

"Well, no, but we can do charitable things, can't we? In the name of the White Fang?"

Ilia tilted her head back, thinking. "I suppose it would work to make those we helped think better of us. And if we helped faunus in need, they might be more amicable to joining us later. Bolstering recruitment and their reputation at once. That's efficient of you. Is that what you mean?"

"Yes." No, but it'd do. The main point was the White Fang led by Jaune Arc to be seen as good people, not criminals. "That's exactly what I mean. We'll buy blankets for the homeless, food for the hungry and medicine for the sick!"

"We'd need money for that."

Jaune winced. He hadn't considered that. The White Fang itself probably had plenty of lien, but the Vale sect wouldn't if it was living out a sewer. _They said the old Vale sect got taken down and these guys came to fix it. That means all the resources are gone._

Except, they weren't.

"We have all that dust we stole," he said. "The dust from the store."

"I think Adam wanted that stolen for a reason, Jaune."

"Yeah, probably to blow people up or something. I mean, that sounds like something he'd do."

Ilia inclined her head. "It does…"

"And we don't plan to do that anymore because we're not going to inspire a reputation of terror." he reasoned. "We're going to do the opposite. So, we sell the dust, pocket the money and use that to start our charity work. We can even use some of it to find a place aboveground to stay." He clapped his hands together and faced her. "How does that sound?"

"You're asking me…? You're the leader here. What you say, goes."

"I'd still like your opinion, Ilia."

He was a complete amateur, after all, and the last thing he wanted was to force his opinion on them if they disagreed. Not because he cared for the White Fang or pleasing them, but because that was a short trip to them overthrowing him. And if their current method of changing leadership was any indication, he wouldn't survive Ilia's takeover.

Much better to have them agree and be on board.

"You do? I mean, of course you do." Ilia coughed into her hand. "I'll do my best to help then! Okay. Well…" She considered for a moment. "I don't see how it could be a _bad_ thing. If we're not going to _use_ the dust, then it's just sitting around taking up space. And money could be useful not just for the charity but improving our own situation. Everything we do has a cost." Her head bobbed up and down. "I think it's a good idea. Or at least, I don't think it's an idea that can backfire on us so long as we're careful. The police might try to stop our helping people, but so long as we run away and aren't caught, _they're_ the ones who will look bad for it. At worst, it doesn't work and we have money. At best, it works and we look great."

That wasn't what he wanted but it might help. If people started to see him as a force for good improving the lives of faunus, they'd be on his side. Then, when he came out and explained the misunderstanding and claimed innocence, they'd be much more likely to believe him.

"That's the plan, Ilia. How much dust do we have?"

"More than just what we stole last night," she said. "Adam was collecting it ever since he arrived and we've got quite the stockpile. He must have been planning something big. Either way, it's enough for us to have some money to work with. Do you want me to sell it all, or should I keep some?"

"Sell it," he said. "It's not like we're meant to hold on to all of it or something and we need the money to spend on helping people." Jaune laughed to himself. If he ended up stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, that might even work to counter the negative rep Adam had landed him with. "And who's going to miss all that dust if we get rid of it? It's not as if anyone is expecting it."

/-/

Cinder Fall raised her head and narrowed her eyes.

"Ma'am?" Emerald asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing. I simply felt a burst of irrational and violent rage... Perhaps I'm coming down with something."

/-/

Ozpin was wholly unsurprised to find a bird waiting for him on his desk. Or to find that bird clicking its beak at some alcohol tipped into a glass. It was perched on the rim, dipping its entire head down into the beaker. Its feathers were fuzzy and out of place, poorly maintained in a way no real bird would allow.

"Must you do that, Qrow?"

The bird hopped off, fluttered in the air clumsily and then became a grown man who caught himself on the edge of the desk. He picked up the glass and downed it. "Ah. You never know how good booze is until you're the size of a bird. I tell you, Ozpin, so much cheaper to get drunk like that."

"Most people do not drink for the express purpose of getting drunk."

"I'm not most people."

"You're not." Ozpin took his seat. "I've spoken to our _other guest_."

Qrow sat on the edge of the desk. "And…?"

"I have decided to let her stay." The hiss from Qrow wasn't unexpected. "I am not unaware of the danger, Qrow, but Miss Belladonna is better off under our watchful eye than not. At times like this, we must keep our enemies close."

"What did she say?"

"Oh, she played dumb at first." Ozpin chuckled at the memory, and the clear shock on the young woman's face once she realised her ruse had been so easily broken. "She seemed quite shocked at the fact I had records of her. Really, she hardly tried to disguise herself at all. Same last name as known White Fang leaders; she even had her parents listed as Ghira and Kali Belladonna. Not to mention the obvious resemblance to those internationally known figures."

"But the bow, Oz," Qrow said sarcastically, miming above his head. "However did you see past such an ingenious disguise?"

"How, indeed." Ozpin smiled into his mug. "I must be some kind of wizard."

Qrow laughed hoarsely, taking another swig from his hip flask. "Did she admit anything?"

"No. Her story is that she did indeed work for the White Fang but had a disagreement with Adam Taurus and left. Once I'd ascertained her identity, she was only too eager to tell her life story. I suspect she believed I would arrest her. To hear her words, she saved a train from being destroyed by de-coupling the cars."

"Any proof?"

"There _was_ a train on the date she provided that arrived with its cars carrying dust missing."

"Could be a set-up."

"It could be," he admitted, "But that is a risk I feel it safe to take for the benefit of having a possible spy firmly under our watch. Or more specifically, yours."

Qrow grimaced. "You want me to use my bird powers to spy on an underage girl."

Ozpin opened his mouth and then closed it again. He huffed, closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Yes," he finally admitted, "Though I find myself wishing you'd phrased that differently. If she _is_ working with this Jaune Arc individual, then she may well be a perfect way to find him. You're free to leave monitoring her to us while she's in Beacon, but if she leaves or acts suspiciously, I want you shadowing her."

"Tch. Sounds like a boring few months ahead."

"Come, Qrow, you're going to be staying in Vale anyway to hunt down the White Fang. Think of this as a valuable chance to spend more time with your nieces."

"As long as my nieces don't end up on the same team as this girl!"

"I'm sure it won't come to that. I mean, what are the chances either of them happens to find Miss Belladonna in the Emerald Forest? Out of all the students there?"

"Knowing my Semblance…?"

"Good point."

/-/

"Thank you, sir. Bless you!"

"You're too kind."

"Thanks, mister."

There were more homeless people in Vale than Jaune had expected. More than he'd ever thought to notice. It left a lump in his throat as two young children who couldn't have been older than fourteen shared a blanket between them, or how amazed they looked when Ilia offered them a second. Her mask was reflected in the low light of the nearby streetlights, making her look terrifying, but the children didn't seem to care.

They did care when Banesaw came up, a hulking mass of muscle over seven feet tall. They shied back.

He knelt, still over five feet tall like that, and held out a hand. In it, a pair of steaming and cooked beef noodles drifted in styrofoam containers. "Eat," the big man said, voice rumbling. "Or you won't grow big and strong."

Tiny hands took the food. Tinier smiles graced their faces.

Deery and Perry were working a little further along, both masked, while Yuma and Trifa were nowhere to be seen but were close by, watching over as sentries. He'd initially planned to have them helping, but Trifa pointed out someone had to keep watch, and their unique abilities made them the best for it. If the worst came, they'd jump down and sound the alarm. Tukson was waiting nearby with an unmarked pizza delivery van for them to get away in. It was unlikely any of the homeless faunus population they were helping would rat them out.

Jaune stood a little further back, without a mask and trying not to feel naked for it. His face was already known, making a mask pointless, and in fact if he wanted to be seen as a kind and innocent person, he couldn't be hiding away. The whole _point_ was for them to know who he was.

"This is a lot of fun," Deery said, coming back to the van for fresh blankets. "I mean, it shouldn't be – and not fun – but I like it more than robbing dust shops."

"I get what you mean," he replied, smiling in the dark. "We're doing good work."

"You look nervous."

"Just worried the huntsmen might come," he admitted. "We're not in a position to fight them."

"Let Yuma and Trifa handle that if it does. They're professionals from Menagerie. We just need to get out and let them escape. They may not be huntsman level, but Yuma can glide away if he has to, and Trifa can fire webs from her hands."

"Really?"

"Well yeah, she's a spider faunus." Deery giggled as she heaped blankets over her shoulders. In the background, Banesaw was cooking ready meals over a burning barrel and handing them out. The food wasn't great, but it had been cheap and it was warm. "That's why Perry was asking if you were an arachnophobe."

"I get that. It's just… why her hands? Spiders don't shoot webs from their hands."

Deery opened her mouth and then closed it a second later. "Huh. Good point…"

"And do female deer grow antlers?"

Deery touched hers protectively. Her neck had flushed red. "I… I don't know. Wait, reindeer do! Ha. I make sense." She breathed a sigh of relief. "You had me worried for a second there. I should go hand some more out. We'll have a riot on our hands if we stop."

Going off again, she started handing blankets left and right. Not every homeless person in the area was without, but these were new and warm ones and you could never have too much in the way of covering when you had nothing else. The fact that the homeless were all faunus wasn't lost on him even if he knew there had to be some human homeless in Vale as well. Did they stay in different shelters? Or perhaps they just avoided one another.

It had to be a bad sign when even the homeless bought into the divide between human and faunus.

A whoosh of air from above signalled Yuma coming into land, not flying but rather gliding down on his wings. His mask was in place, giving him a haunted look. His mouth was downturned. "We have police en route," he reported. "Trifa is blocking the road with some skips. It should buy us a few minutes as they clear them or go on foot."

So, someone had called them in. Not the people here, that was for sure. Jaune looked up at the buildings all around them more disappointed than he cared to admit at the fact someone would call the police on people doing something like this.

"It's time for us to go!" Jaune called out, raising his voice.

The homeless who had yet to receive food looked at him sorrowfully. A lump formed in his stomach.

"We'll try and come back another time but that might not be easy. White Fang, leave the food and blankets here – we can't force you, but please share these out between yourselves. Don't hoard them or fight over the supplies. Help one another. We'll come back to try and help more."

Deery and Perry hurried for the blankets, Yuma helping. Tukson got the van running and Bane lumbered over to pick up an entire _pallet_ of dried food and lug it over to the burning trashcan, his biceps bulging. He laid it down with a grunt, easily a hundred or more packaged meals that only required boiling water to cook.

"Share," the giant rumbled. "Please don't fight over them."

"We won't," an elderly faunus said, coming forward. "If everyone is patient, we'll see that not a person goes without a belly full of hot food tonight. Thank you, kind sirs, though I don't dare ask what the White Fang wants with us. We're destitute. We can't offer you anything."

"We don't want anything," Jaune said. "We're just trying to help."

The old man watched him carefully. "I hope that is true, young man. Your actions reflect on us all…"

If they did, then him trying to turn the White Fang around would only work for the better. In his head, he could imagine Adam growling away. He ignored it, climbing into the front of the van alongside Deery and Ilia, with Perry, Yuma and Banesaw taking up the rear. Bane slammed the back doors shut, cutting off the people outside just as sirens became audible in the distance.

"Take us out of here, Tukson," Ilia said. "No fighting tonight."

The bearded man grunted. "Good."

The van pulled away, leaving the food and supplies behind. They pulled out onto a road and joined the traffic, moving away at a sedate pace as patrol cars, having circumnavigated Trifa's roadblock, drove past them without stopping.

"Looks like we're away," Ilia said. "That's a successful operation."

"Yeah." Jaune leaned back and closed his eyes. "And I'd like to see them spin us as evil for this."

/-/

Next morning's newspaper lay on the table.

_White Fang prey on homeless. Lisa Lavender investigates. _

Jaune, Ilia, Yuma and Trifa stared down at it while Banesaw cooked breakfast, humming a tune to himself as he flipped eggs. Jaune's eyebrows twitched, the entire left side of his face spasming angrily. Yuma put thoughts to words, saving him the trouble.

"Son of a bitch…"

* * *

**Well, it's not like a violent terrorist group suddenly doing good work would be believed by anyone. On the characters here, I will be making up backstories as a way to expand on this motley crew. That will include explanations for why someone like Bane can act like this around them and be a chainsaw psycho against Weiss. I'm not just entirely changing or (I think it's called Wooby-fying?) the characters. They'll have reasons to be acting as they do.**

**If Banesaw sees Weiss, he **_**will**_** act like he did on the train, and the reasons why will be explained – also with backstory for the others too, including Tukson! That's right, you bearded wonder, you're not just going to exist as a way to show that the evil people are, gasp, evil.**

**And Qrow is following Blake. I'm sure that won't be an issue. Not like Blake cares about the White Fang or anything...**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 10****th**** December**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	4. Chapter 4

**There will be no updates on the 23****rd**** – 29****th**** December for a Christmas break. That will affect this story, which would normally have been updated on Christmas eve (not happening). It will instead be pushed back to the following week, updating on the 31****st**** December.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 4**

* * *

"Did you think it would be that easy?"

"Shut up, Adam."

"Humans will weave their own narrative. Those in power will preserve their comfort, their power, even if it means allowing others to suffer."

"I just need to show them I'm not evil."

"Your efforts mean nothing to someone like Lisa Lavender."

"I'll prove it."

"You're nothing more than a story. Ratings. Profit."

Jaune sighed and looked to Adam. Or the figment of his imagination currently occupying his head and for some reason haunting _every damn dream_ he had. He was still standing there with his arms crossed, face masked and tilted back, smirking down on him.

"People aren't like that," he argued, unsure why he felt it worth arguing with someone who wasn't real. "It's a free press and they can write what they choose to. You make it sound like it's controlled by the Government or something."

"It is. Not directly, perhaps, but politicians can and do make life difficult for those who cross them. With but a word, they can ensure your career goes no further – no matter if you are guilty or not. A clique of powerful friends and allies working to consolidate power."

"Cynic."

"You're naïve," Adam said. "You'll learn. We all did."

"I won't need to. I'll be out of the White Fang as soon as I can prove I never joined in the first place. And I'll turn the Vale cell into people who aren't even terrorists at all. Soon, everyone will see that we're an activist group to be respected."

"As I said, naïve. I'll be looking forward to your failure."

Jaune's eye twitched. "Shouldn't you be hoping I succeed? I'm helping the White Fang after all…"

"My desire to see my work fulfilled is weighed against the urges to see you suffer." Adam said it flatly. "It is a difficult decision, but seeing you crushed appeals to me just a little bit more."

"Why…?"

Adam sighed. "Are you really asking me that?"

"Because I killed you?"

"No. Because you're blond."

Jaune opened his mouth.

"Of course it's because you killed me, you moron."

"Oh. Can't we forgive and forget?"

Adam's lips dragged down.

"I'm taking that as a no," Jaune said. "Is that a no? It looks like a no. Sheesh, I must have a pretty low opinion of you to think you'd be this much of an asshole. I mean, Perry, Ilia and the rest were your friends so you can't have been that bad."

"We were not friends."

"You'd probably want them to survive and carry on your work. Or the _real you_ would."

"I'm sure Ilia would love to carry on a _certain aspect_ of my legacy. A cat-shaped aspect…"

"Instead, I'm typecasting you as some kind of monster."

"Perry is an idiot. Deery is annoying. The others are little better…"

"I need to keep an open mind," Jaune said. "Not all terrorists are heartless."

"Bane…" Adam cocked his head. "I did not dislike Bane. To do so would have been like kicking a small animal."

"They're just normal people at the end of the day. Adam probably was as well. Just like me."

"You, Arc, are anything but normal…"

/-/

"Late night, boss?" Yuma asked as he stumbled into the communal chamber. The bat faunus had his wings stretched out and was rubbing over them with a cloth. "You look like you went out drinking. Should have invited me."

They knew he hadn't. He couldn't leave like them. "Difficulty sleeping."

"Hm. Know what you mean. This place isn't exactly the lap of luxury."

Jaune looked for Trifa and found her sat on her cot, staring down at her hands like she'd just committed mass orphan-murder and couldn't handle it. That she hadn't had him raising an eyebrow toward Yuma for an explanation.

"Deery asked her something last night. Something you said apparently. It's been bothering her all morning."

"Why?" Trifa murmured quietly. "Why does it come out my hands…?"

"I wouldn't read into it," Yuma said. "She'll get over it. Here, saved you some breakfast from Bane. He had to go up top and open his flower shop. He brought more potpourri too."

Jaune snatched up the bundle of dried flowers and pinned it to his lapel like the last. The fragrant scene replaced that of sewage. Sitting at the upturned road sign, he dug into his sausage and egg sandwich, listening with only half an ear as Trifa continued to poke at the palms of her hand, mumbling to herself.

"Are we doing the charity run again tonight?" Yuma asked him.

"I think so. We need to be consistent in our message that we're not terrorists."

"Not terrorists." Yuma winked and clicked his tongue. "I get you, boss. Totally not terrorists."

_No. As in, actually not terrorists, _he thought but didn't say. It wouldn't be a wise idea to phrase, however, and so long as Yuma and the others were on board, it didn't really matter. "The newspapers writing us as bad is a problem, but I figure it'll blow over once they realise we're not actually hurting anyone."

"Not so sure myself there. It's not in their best interests to let this blow over – or anything. Scandal is good for business. You could have two celebrities bump into another, immediately apologise, and I can guarantee they'd be `feuding` according to the newspapers."

"It's their job to report news. They'll report it if we do good."

"Hmm. We'll see." Yuma didn't sound convinced.

He probably just assumed the newspapers would be against them because they usually were – understandable on account of them being _terrorists_ in all previous situations. He was like Adam. No, not Adam. The figment of his imagination that looked like Adam. That was _not_ the real Adam Taurus, who was about as dead as they came.

"If nothing else, we should keep an eye out tonight," Yuma said. "I wouldn't put it past the police to be watching that area we worked in yesterday."

That, on the other hand, was a very valid point. "We'll need to find another angle, then. The last thing we want is a battle with the authorities. That'll be more fodder for people to call us the bad guys."

If they could have waited until the heat died down, that'd be better, but it wasn't an option. Helping the poor, being called out for it and then _stopping_ would only look like they thought Lisa Lavender had caught them out on a plan. To really prove it was nothing more than charity, they had to keep doing it. And besides, a lot of those faunus would be hoping they'd come back.

_They deserve help. No one should live on the street like that._

"Why, though?" Trifa asked, rolling onto all fours and sticking her butt in the air. Her tight black pants stretched thin over it as she ran her hand over herself. "Wouldn't it make more sense if I shot webs from here?"

Jaune and Yuma tilted their heads to the left, staring unabashedly.

"Daaamn," Yuma whispered.

"Hm," Jaune agreed.

"Yeah," Ilia said, suddenly sat between them. "Wow."

Jaune jumped so hard his knees struck the road sign. He winced, but still had the presence of mind to yelp, "I wasn't looking!"

"Hah?" Ilia asked, looking over distractedly.

"I-I wasn't checking out her ass," he said defensively.

"Oh. Yeah." Ilia looked away. "Me neither. Just, you know, lost in thought and staring into the distance. The distance that happened to be in her direction."

"Trifa," Yuma called out jokingly. "Stop touching yourself. You're making everyone awkward."

Trifa, realising what she was doing, sat back with a rueful laugh. "Sorry Ilia. I didn't see you come in."

_Why is she apologising to Ilia? I guess she must think I'm too professional to be caught looking._ A big overestimation. Trifa was a little severe looking with her grey hair and those markings running up her arms and chest, but when you were stuck in a sewer, there wasn't much to look at.

"Anyway," Ilia said pointedly. "I got you a disguise to wear so we can travel on the surface."

Jaune sat up. "Really!? That's quick."

"I didn't have to go buy it in the end. I had an outfit already; you're not too tall or buff, so it should fit you."

Was that an insult? Probably not. He couldn't fault her being accurate in calling him noodle armed. "Thanks, Ilia. Bring it to my room and I'll try it on."

/-/

"Um…"

Jaune stared at himself in the mirror.

Ilia, meanwhile, stared at the wall, refusing to meet his eyes. "It's a disguise," she said, just a little defensive. "The whole point is for people to not be able to recognise you."

"I get that…"

"Your face wasn't seen all that close, but they have enough details to pick you out of a crowd if they get the chance. Blonde hair, blue-eyed male of average build. Seventeen years old. We need to change as many of those things as we can."

"Hence the wig," Jaune said easily, "But as for the other things…"

"Change as many of those things as we can," Ilia repeated. "Turn around."

Jaune did so anxiously, blushing as he held an arm over his padded breasts. The bra was stuffed with socks. "I look like an idiot."

"You look like a six out of ten."

"What?"

"You look okay," she amended. "You know, like you're meant to." Ilia busied over with a nervous laugh, fluffing up his hair and adjusting his outfit. It was a strange one for sure, long stockings in a purple-black colour that clung a little too tightly to his legs. "I can put a little eye shadow on you after. A long wig _perfectly_ covers all your hair and no one is going to think the girl with long black hair might be Jaune Arc. It's the perfect disguise."

"I… I guess…?" It all made sense. It was all reasonable. Man, the stockings were _tight_ on his legs, not to mention the black shorts that really didn't cover all that much of his ass. He looked over his shoulder nervously. "I feel naked."

"You're not. Literally the only skin you're showing is a bit of your stomach and arms. Think of the stockings like trousers."

"Do I really look like a girl?"

"Not perfectly," Ilia said. "You have the figure for it-"

"Hey!"

"-but looking at you, I can technically think you look good, but you're definitely not a girl." Ilia sighed. "Shame. I thought you'd look better. Well, it should be enough to fool anyone who _isn't_ looking at you too closely. Oh, there's one more thing." Ilia rummaged in the box and came back holding something in her hand. "Ta-dah."

"Cat ears. Why are there cat ears…?"

"Disguise."

"But… wouldn't it make more sense to disguise myself as a human?"

Like he was.

"No. Jaune Arc is a faunus with no distinguishable faunus traits. If he's going to disguise himself, it would be as a human. That's what they expect you to do. He's definitely _not_ a cat faunus with visible ears. This will be perfect. I have contacts too. They'll make your eyes look yellow."

Again, it made sense. With a sigh, he pulled the headband up and slipped it into his hair, leaning forward so Ilia could work the hair over and around it to conceal the fact. The ears were soft and spongy, not like the cheap cardboard ones someone might wear for dressing up. They looked real enough at a distance in the mirror, though they didn't move.

"How do I look?"

Ilia offered a thumbs up. "Good enough."

"Great." It was embarrassing, but for a good cause. "I'll go show Trifa and Yuma."

"Wait," Ilia said, blanching. "No, no, no, no, no. That's not-"

Jaune stepped out of the tunnel, a little wobbly on his black heels, "Hey. What do you think of the disguise Ilia got me? It's a little weird, I know, but does it work? Do I look different?"

Trifa and Yuma looked up. Their eyes widened briefly.

"It's not what it looks like!" Ilia wailed, coming in after him.

"Ilia," Trifa said softly. Seriously. "Can I have a word with you in private?"

"It's not what you thiiink, Trifa! It's a misunderstanding!"

"Then let's misunderstand in the corner for a second," Trifa said as she brushed past Jaune with a smile, gripped Ilia by the arm and dragged her off to the corner of the room, hissing under her breath. "Excuse us," she said politely. "We're just going to misunderstand some things. Ilia will be right back."

Jaune watched uncertainly, until Yuma came up, wrapped an arm around his shoulder and led him away.

"Best to not get involved," he said wisely. "And don't worry, I doubt anyone outside of Menagerie will recognise you. Good job Adam isn't alive to see this, though. He'd have words."

"I don't understand what you mean…"

"Trust me. That's a good thing."

/-/

Ilia sulked as she watched her leader stumble around the sidewalk, looking up at the bright sky with a huge smile on her – his – face. It would have normally been enough to cheer her up, but it wasn't very Blake-like.

_Stupid Trifa didn't even let me explain. Ugh._

It wasn't like she'd picked the outfit out specifically for him. Even dressed up like a girl, he was distinctly masculine to her. Instant turn-off. He didn't have the personality for Blake either, and the outfit had actually been something she bought for an ex.

That… hadn't gone well.

_She said she wanted to dress up and do a role play. Not my fault she got upset when I asked her to role play as Blake. Isn't that the whole point of dressing up in the first place?_

Okay, maybe it was her fault. Looking back, it had been a pretty stupid move – but again, how was it any different from dressing up as a famous actor or something? Blake was a known figure in Menagerie, so it was like role playing a famous actor or something. Or maybe not. Her crush on Blake hadn't been a very well-kept secret. Apart from Blake herself that was, who either was too dense to notice or pretended not to so as to not hurt her feelings. No such luck with her ex, who had called her more than her fair share of horrible names. Bah. Total overreaction. The dumping had been swift and vicious.

Honestly, it was one of the things that convinced her following Adam to Vale so soon might be a good idea. Escape _that_ pit of awkwardness.

"At least the outfit is getting some use now…"

"Hm?" Jaune – or Jane, Jayne or Jodie – looked down at her. "What was that?"

"Just thinking how the disguise works," she lied. "Try not to talk too much when people are around. Your voice doesn't fit the outfit."

"Oh? How about this~!" Jaune nodded and, to his credit, tried for a feminine tone. It was much too sharp, quite clearly a guy pretending to be a girl. He caught her wince and accurately guessed the reason, speaking in a whisper after. "No good?"

"Not bad," she allowed. It hadn't been awful - just not convincing. "Just not good enough. It'll be fine if you let me handle things. So…" She smiled. Trifa's whispered telling-off aside, it was a bright day and she'd helped their new boss with a problem. "Here we are, Vale. Was there something you wanted to do, or just enjoy a little fresh air?"

Sienna didn't have to know if it was the latter. Results were all well and good but staying cooped up in a sewer was enough to drive anyone mad. Sometimes, you had to take a little time for yourself as well.

"I wanted to contact my family and let them know how I am…"

"That might be best done by mail," she warned. "Their lines will be monitored."

"I guess so. Well, we can at least buy a card for me to send them. Could you post it later if I write it tonight?"

"Of course. The White Fang is my family now, but I don't mind helping out." Curiously, she asked, "What's your family like?"

"Oh, they're awesome. My dad is a huntsman and my mom has him wrapped around her finger. I have _seven_ sisters, five older and two younger."

Ilia's attention peaked. "They look like you?"

"Like female versions of me. Here." He pulled out his scroll. "I'll show you a picture."

Ooh. Ilia hurried over and peered at an image of Jaune squashed between seven girls, with a much older woman behind. Blonde wasn't her preferred colour, but they were very pretty indeed. "They look nice." _Very nice_. "Friendly."

"Yeah. They're awesome."

"Any of them single?"

Jaune shot her an odd look.

"Asking for a friend."

"Yuma?" he guessed incorrectly. "Well, Saph is the only one around his age, but she's not into guys I'm afraid. Never has been."

"She's into girls?"

"Yep."

"Single?" Ilia asked quickly. "Readily available? Within introducing distance?"

"Afraid not. Married a really nice girl called Terra." He smiled fondly. "They even had a kid together. I got to be best man at the wedding."

Bah. All the best ones were taken.

Dragging her attention away, Ilia sighed and tugged on his arm. On the bright side, the chances of him being bothered about her sexuality were apparently lower than zero. That was nice. "Let's get you a card and find a café to have lunch at. We'll want to be back in time to catch a nap before we go out tonight. If there was one thing Adam was good for, it was making sure people were rested before a mission."

Finding a card shop was easy enough, and they were able to disappear into the aisles before anyone could look too closely at Jaune. It was the line of his jaw, she decided. Too firm. Too manly. In the end, she told him to pick a card and let her go pay for it. Safer that way.

He found one quickly. A simple large card with the words; "Sorry! I made a mistake…" written on the front. She didn't question – he probably meant sorry for getting them in trouble – and instead went to ring it in. The woman behind the register noticed her scales but didn't comment on them, smiling and wishing her well as she paid. Vale was a lot easier to be a faunus in than Atlas.

If she'd been born here, she wondered if she would have joined the White Fang at all. As much as discrimination existed all over Remnant, the homeless enclave being a good example, it was the raw and harsh nature of it in Atlas that really pushed her to act. If it had just been a simmering inequality, she might have been able to ignore it.

"Lost in thought?"

Ilia glanced over to her companion, who was technically her boss and a dangerous faunus who killed Adam. All those things should have made her nervous, but he was surprisingly disarming. That was probably intentional on his part, but if he wanted to manipulate them by treating them as equals, then… well, was that so bad?

"I was thinking about Vale," she said honestly. "I grew up in Atlas and then moved to Menagerie, so I've not been here long."

"My first time in the big city as well," he said. "I grew up in a small village outside. It's… it's nice," he said, in that way people did when they didn't think something was all that good but didn't want to be rude about it. "I can see why people like it, but it's also really loud, congested and the air isn't all that fresh."

She hummed her agreement on all fronts. "The air is cleaner in Menagerie. Still cleaner up here than in a sewer, though. We really need to find somewhere to stay before we take on new people. We're not going to impress anyone as we are."

"Yeah. I guess renting a place is out the question?"

"Not necessarily. A lot of people won't ask questions of who they rent to if the money is right, and you can always find a sympathiser who will put us up. That can be dangerous, though. If they change their mind and rat us out…"

"I get it. We'll need somewhere big…"

"It doesn't need to be comfortable," she said. "Don't think house or apartment. We can bring our own beds and make it more homely. The important thing is space. Space, shelter and how easily we blend in."

Was it too forward of her to offer advice like that? He probably knew. Wincing, she half expected him to snort or comment that he wasn't an idiot. Thankfully, he didn't, only nodding and thinking to himself.

_Need to stop treating him like an amateur. He beat Adam and helped us rob that dust store. He knows what he's doing._

"How about this place?"

Ilia looked up. "That's a diner…"

"For food, I mean. Not a home. I figured we could pick up a brochure from an estate agent before heading home and have a look through that later. If we want to look normal, we should do things legally, right?"

She slapped her forehead. "Right. Sorry. Yes, it looks good – and you're right on the legal approach. Us occupying a run-down and abandoned place is going to draw everyone's attention but having a paper trail will ironically make us _less likely_ to be caught. We have a few fake identities we can use for that."

/-/

Going out dressed up as a girl wasn't as hard as he'd first thought.

Maybe it helped that he'd grown up around so many and didn't have a fragile ego to be wounded by it, or maybe he was just happy to get out and not be cooped up in a sewer. Either way, once he mastered the heels, it was plain sailing. Ilia was good company, if a little flustered after her conversation with Trifa.

_She probably got told off for dressing me up like a girl. Trifa must have thought it was offensive. I'll have to tell her later I wasn't upset about it._ It wasn't fair to leave Ilia in trouble like that.

Taking a seat by a window, Jaune picked up the menu and ran over it, letting her know he'd have a chicken salad. Not his usual fare, but Bane mostly cooked meat anyway, so something a little lighter sounded nice. Letting Ilia do the ordering would also be safer on his end since his feminine voice apparently sounded awful.

When the man came up to take their order, Ilia rattled off hers and his, along with some soda.

"I'm sorry," the man said, "But pets aren't allowed in here."

Jaune looked up. "Eh?"

"We'll leave then," Ilia said woodenly, standing up and pulling on Jaune's arm.

He didn't budge. "What pets?" he asked, for a moment forgetting he was supposed to be silent. He looked under the table, wondering if a cat or dog had followed them in. "I don't see anything."

The man's smile took on an amused edge, like Jaune had said something particularly funny. A few people on nearby tables giggled. Ilia kept pulling until he gave up and stood, following her out the diner and back onto the street.

"I don't get it," he said. "Why are we leaving?"

"Because we're not welcome there."

"What do you mean? And what did _he_ mean about pets?"

Ilia's voice came out hoarse. "He was referring to you…"

"Me…?" It didn't sink in. "I don't know what-"

"I'm not an obvious faunus," she spat. "At least not straight away. You're not either, normally, but right now you are. He was calling you my pet."

Jaune's blood ran cold.

Calling him an animal.

That… Was that really what happened? He wanted to laugh it off and say Ilia had the wrong end of the stick, and it wasn't like he felt offended about it. _But I wouldn't, would I? I'm not a faunus. I'm not the one being told I can't eat in a restaurant because I'm an animal._

No one had really suggested he was a lesser human being subservient like a pet to Ilia. But had he really been a faunus, that might have been the case. Jaune looked back at the diner, back at the window and the people inside who were still laughing between themselves at how he'd been chased out.

"I… I didn't realise…"

Not just them, but before. Had such prejudice happened in front of his eyes and been ignored in the past? He liked to think it hadn't, that he'd have stepped in like a good person, but how could he when he hadn't even recognised it being aimed at him?

"Forget it," Ilia said. "This is why we fight. We'll find a faunus-owned establishment."

The café they eventually found was on a much quieter street that didn't see much foot traffic. The apartments were rattier and trash bags were piled up outside doors. The diner, simply called `Pete's` had a glass window with a wooden board sealed over half of it. Black spray-paint writing was adorned over it, thankfully not a racial slur but just some stupid gang marking. The middle-aged faunus with dog ears that greeted them looked nervously at Ilia, but calmed down once she flashed her scales to show him she was a faunus.

After that, he became much more friendly, showing them to table and bringing over some drinks for them. A much younger girl behind the counter, probably eleven or twelve, helped what he assumed was her father.

The diner was quiet. They weren't the only ones, but it was close. One other table on the other side was occupied by a faunus with two tusks rising from his lower lip. He wore a black business suit just a little dusty and was typing away on a laptop, a steaming cup of coffee on the table.

"Most of us stick to places like this," Ilia said. "Even if not every place is run by some racist prick, there's bound to be one person there who is. Sometimes the owners apologise and the waiters try to stop it, but it's like we're making work for them, you know? Even if they try and help, it's sometimes easier to just not bother." She sighed. "I hate that attitude, even if I do it myself."

Dad had always said it was easier to back down and let a bully have their way with you, which was why so many people didn't fight back. People, he would often say, are just like animals sometimes. They'll take the path that's easiest.

A TV over the bar was playing quietly, covering the local news. Jaune looked up and saw his own face plastered behind a presenter. The volume was too low, but it didn't take a genius to figure out they were labelling him a terrorist again.

"Rough news," the proprietor said, coming over with his salad. It was drizzled with olive oil. "White Fang activity in the area means bad news for us. I wish they'd just stop. Things might get easier if there were less reasons for us to be hated."

Wincing, Jaune prepared to stop Ilia if she blurted something out.

To his surprise, she didn't. Ilia hummed and sipped her drink, either unconcerned with the faunus' words or prepared to ignore them. He laid their plates down, wished them a good meal and then went back behind his counter, taking an order from the businessman at the other table.

"Not everyone agrees with what we do," Ilia whispered. "Sienna tells us not to let it get under our skin. There are those who have given up. It's our job to fight for them, even if they don't want us to."

"Even if it means them getting abused?"

"The abuse existed long before we did." Ilia looked up. "Why else did the first faunus war happen?"

Jaune had no answer. His lips sealed shut.

"People will say they only hate faunus because of our actions, but that's nonsense. It was happening before and it'd be happening even if we never existed. We're nothing more than a convenient excuse used to justify their feelings."

Like being called an animal or a pet. He hadn't done anything to that man back there, nor shown any signs of violence. _All I did was exist with a pair of cat ears on my head. Damn it. Is it really that bad? I hope Ansel isn't and it's not that I never noticed._

There weren't many faunus in Ansel, but now he found himself wondering if that was a coincidence or not. The fact he couldn't immediately deny it had him staring down at his salad. They ate in silence, forks clinking on the plates.

When the faunus came over to ask if they'd like more, they politely refused and Ilia left a large tip for him, pushing her seats back under and leading him out. A few more faunus were approaching, nodding to them as they headed inside. It must have been six or seven in the afternoon, the sun beginning to set, which meant they'd have to get back soon if they wanted to have time to go help the homeless later.

_It's going to take time,_ he thought. _People aren't going to accept the White Fang have changed in a single day. Just keep pushing and they'll get the message eventually._ Hopefully, it would make them change their attitude, too. It would be nice to both clear his name _and_ help the faunus.

"I'll grab a brochure," Ilia told him as they passed by an estate agent. "It'll go quicker if I pretend to be human and it's hard to see my scales if I don't flare them." She looked left and right. "You might want to go wait a little way down. Just hang by the bus stop and I'll come get you."

"Okay." He nodded and made his way over, leaning against the wall away from the stop and the people there, some of whom shot him glances. Not hateful ones, thankfully. Just curious. He kept his head down and fiddled with his scroll, acting like someone reading texts.

_I could make a run for it right now. Ilia's busy and would never know._

It was tempting, but where would he go? Home? That was out of the question, and while they might believe him, he'd still be in trouble. He'd killed someone. And what if they didn't believe him? Would all of Vale admit they were wrong about him? Wouldn't it be easier just to _say_ he was guilty and lock him up? No one would argue.

_Now I'm starting to think like Adam._ He winced. _Fake-Adam. Imagination-Adam._

"Blake! It _is_ you!"

Unreal Adam? No, that didn't sound right. Even calling it by name was a bad idea.

"Helloooo? Blake? Hello? Hey! Are you ignoring me?"

It was loud out. People in the city weren't afraid to be really loud, apparently. Well, it was a bus stop. Not hard to imagine friends meeting up for-

A small face shoved itself under his, peering up at him with a happy grin.

"Blaaake! Hello?"

Eh-? Him? Jaune leaned back and looked around, trying to see if he was somehow mistaken and she was talking to someone next to him. No one was close. The bus had come and people were getting on, leaving him stranded with a girl younger than him with shoulder-length black hair tipped red and bright silver eyes.

"Hey," she whined. "Don't ignore me. I get enough of that with Weiss."

Shit, shit, shit. What was he supposed to do? Bringing his voice up as squeaky as he could, he looked away and tittered, "I-I think you have the wrong person. I-I'm not Blake."

The girl looked unimpressed. "Yeah, wow. And trying to talk different will _totally_ make me not recognise my own teammate. You could at least wear something different if you wanted to fool me." She bounced on her heels, smile appearing. "So, what are you doing? You told me and Yang you were going to read in the library." Her eyes sparkled. "This doesn't look like the library."

"Ah. Um…" His eyes flicked back to the estate agents, wishing Ilia would come save him.

"Are you out shopping? Did you have a haircut? You look a little different but I can't place it. Oh!" The girl slapped her fist into her palm. "Is this you out shopping for your books? We all know what they are so you don't need to feel embarrassed about it. And I'm fifteen. I know what porn is and I'm not going to spontaneously combust if I see you buying it." The girl rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Yang treats me like I'm ten sometimes."

"I, uh, think you have me confused…"

"Nope. Not falling for it. Oh, are you on a date? Am I interrupting?" The girl looked around nervously. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't…" She trailed off. "Wait, where's your bow and why do you have cat ea-" The girl looked above her hair. Her eyes widened and her hands flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry! I didn't realise. Oh, that sounded horrible, didn't it? I didn't mean it that way."

As the flustered girl loudly apologised, more and more people were beginning to look their way, among them a pair of police officers walking side by side on patrol. They looked more curious than anything, but it was a step in a dangerous direction. Ducking his head, Jaune pulled away with a muttered apology, ignoring the girl calling out a name he didn't recognise.

Ilia was just coming out the shop with a magazine in hand when he ran into her. "We have to go."

"Why?" she asked.

"Blaaake!" the girl wailed. "I'm sorry! I didn't know!"

Ilia's eyes widened. "Shit. Time to leave."

"Who the hell is Blake?"

"I… I'll explain that another time. Run."

/-/

Blake Belladonna sighed as she came to a stop at the door to her dorm, book in hand. Reading alone hadn't been as pleasant as it normally would have been, in no small part thanks to her thoughts returning to Adam and the White Fang she'd left behind. Adam, her once friend and former boyfriend who was, by all accounts, now dead.

Her eyes closed at the thought. Though they'd disagreed at the end, she hadn't wanted that for him and had cried at the news. Cried for the boy he'd once been and the man she'd loved. Cried that he'd never have a chance to change like she had.

Damn that bastard who killed him. Damn him!

_No. I can't go hunting him down. Ozpin warned me what would happen if I acted out. Warned me he's watching me._ She swallowed, remembering the terror she felt at being confronted and having her former allegiances laid out so bluntly.

How had he seen through her disguise? She'd worn a bow and everything!

"I'm a huntress now," she whispered. "And no one has to know I'm a faunus."

Opening the door, she stepped through.

And right into a Ruby-shaped missile.

"I'm sorry!" Ruby babbled wildly. "I didn't mean to make it sound like being a faunus was a bad thing. I don't care that you're a faunus and I won't ask what you were doing in Vale or about that girl you were with. You're my teammate and my friend and you don't have to hide your ears under that bow if you don't want to!"

Blake stared down at her, horrified.

Weiss and Yang sat on their beds, stunned. Their eyes slowly rose to the bow atop her head, which while still in place, was twitching and flicking agitatedly. Also, obviously.

Ruby's arms wrapped around her stomach prevented her making a break for it, and the moment she tried, Ruby jumped to the wrong conclusion and clung on tighter, burying her face in Blake's chest. It was hard to breathe.

"R-Ruby..."

"Don't hate meee!" Ruby wailed. "I'm sorry!"

/-/

"So," Yuma began, "How are we going to explain this to the boss?"

"It's not my fault," Perry said, despite the situation being very much his fault. On a scale of one to fault, it ranked about an Adam, which while not a number in mathematical terms, was still pretty incriminating. "I thought it would be a good idea to scout the homeless area before our mission tonight. Make sure there weren't police setting up an ambush. I was thinking of our safety!"

"And that's good," Trifa remarked. "We're not blaming you for that. But you went masked."

"If there were police, they'd have noted a faunus coming up to pay attention. I thought it was better safe than sorry and I could always make a run for it if I had to." Perry was gripping his hair with both hands. "You know I've got an identity to keep. I have family who would suffer if people found out I worked for the White Fang."

Yuma rubbed his face. It wasn't unreasonable to think that way, especially with how harsh the police could be to captured members. Most people got a fair trial when they broke the law, but that went out the window for the White Fang. Atlas liked to request extradition, and the other Kingdoms never really stood up to them.

White Fang captured by Atlas were rarely seen again. The military Kingdom was well-known for its `enhanced interrogation` techniques. All very necessary, Atlas liked to assure as they left faunus – innocent or not – broken, sobbing and fractured messes.

He couldn't blame Perry being afraid of that.

"Hopefully, the boss will see it the same way. Crap on a stick, this isn't what we need right now. I mean, Adam would _love_ this and I've got a feeling that whatever Adam loves, Jaune is gonna hate."

"Blake included," Trifa murmured, "Once he realises who Ilia dressed him up as."

They all winced at that.

"I panicked, okay!" Perry yelled. "She came out of nowhere. Right in my face. She startled me!"

"And you reacted by screaming, clocking her in the jaw and knocking her out," Trifa said, poking the unconscious body on the cot with a stick. "What I don't understand is why you then didn't leave her there."

"Face-down in the street? What if she died?"

"So, you kidnapped her instead…"

Perry cringed. "It was really more of a rescue."

"From yourself?"

"We can let her go once she's recovered. That'll help with what the boss wants, right?"

"This is a bad idea." Trifa stepped back. "You're the one who has to tell the boss – and contact Tukson and the others. Masks on around the base. Your identity is as good as gone if she so much as catches a sight of your face."

"Perry!" Deery wailed. "You bloody idiot!"

"It's not my fault!"

"Not even a day! Not even a _single day_ and you pull this!"

"I was startled!"

"You'll be startled when Jaune decides to _Adam_ you as well, I bet! What are we going to do then? Don't think I'm going to jump in front of him to save you. Argh. You're such an idiot!"

"We're baaack!" their boss called.

Every single one of them flinched. Yuma stepped behind Trifa, who stepped behind Deery, who stepped behind Perry, who was held in place as Jaune and Ilia – currently looking like a taller Blake and Ilia – came into the sewer.

"Why are you all looking so nervous?" Jaune asked. "We brought some takeout back with us an-" He saw the person laid out unconscious on his cot. Rice and curry splatted on the floor as the bags dropped from nerveless fingers. "Crap in a handbasket," he rasped. "Who did I kill to deserve this?"

"Adam," Trifa said helpfully. "You killed Adam."

"Did him in real good," Yuma agreed. "Also, not mine and Trifa's fault. No kill, please."

Jaune, their boss, stared at the woman in the cot.

Lisa Lavender, one eye swollen shut and purple, stirred in her sleep.

He looked up, eyes flat.

Perry swallowed, firmed his resolve and stepped forward. "Boss," he said seriously, looking down at the floor. "Deery did it. It's all her fault."

"WHAT!? Perry, you son of a bitch!"

* * *

**Good job, Perry. No way this backfires. **

**My apologies for this chapter having a serious bit in the middle. I'm going to be sticking mostly to comedy, but there **_**will**_** be bits to make people think. And no, I'm not making light of Ilia being a lesbian. She's not going to be developing feelings for Jaune through this story because, as she's noted, he's a guy and not her type, whether or not he's dressed as a woman. Ilia x Jaune is not a potential pairing for this story, no matter how feminine Jaune can look. **

**We don't see much in the way of a suggestion that LGBT rights are marginalised in Remnant as they are in our world, or that racism based on colour exists either. It's mostly faunus. Saphron and Terra were accepted by everyone, so I tend to think Remnant just doesn't have the same issues we do. As such, there aren't jokes to be made at Ilia's expense, other than the suggestion she crushes a little too hard on Blake and happened to have a "Blake cosplay" set from her last relationship. **

**It's more something I could see Adam doing really, but hey ho.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 31****st**** December (3 Weeks)**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy new Year to you all tomorrow. Or tonight. Whichever way you experience it first.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Deery was in the process of drowning Perry while Jaune, Yuma and Trifa stared down on the unconscious form of Lisa Lavender, a woman who would by any stretch of the imagination quickly be missed up top. _I'm supposed to be showing people we're not terrorists,_ he thought hysterically. _Kidnapping someone doesn't help with that._

"Ideas?"

"I wouldn't dare impede on your glorious schemes," Trifa said.

"Dare," he insisted. "Please dare. What would Adam do?"

"Kill her."

"Are you s-?"

"Kill her," Yuma confirmed. "Wouldn't even be having this conversation. Just _slick_ and off goes her head. He'd probably then have it delivered to the media company she works for or something. He was pretty metal like that."

Metal. Hm. Not the word he would have used. "We're not killing her."

"Yeah, I pretty much figured that. We could deliver her up top head _connected_ to body. Crazy, I know, but it could work."

"Better," Jaune said, pointing his way without looking. "I'm liking this, Yuma. You've got potential."

"Aww. Thanks boss. Adam never told me that."

Ilia sighed and stepped between them before the bromance could deepen. "That might not be the best idea. At least without dealing with her first. The last thing she saw was a White Fang member attacking her. What do you expect is going to be in the news tomorrow if she goes home uncontested?"

"White Fang surprisingly merciful?" Jaune offered hopefully.

"I'm sorry. You must be under the impression the news nowadays is accurate. You saw how they twisted us trying to help homeless people." He had, of course, but he'd been hoping this might be different. No basis for that. Just hope. "We're going to have to let her wake up," Ilia said. "Masks on."

The order didn't seem to include him since a) his identity was shot and b) they'd never actually given him a mask in the first place. Unless they expected him to take Adam's, which wasn't happening anytime soon. Letting Trifa and Ilia carry their guest into his chamber where she'd have a little more privacy, he stepped out in time to stop Deery actually following through and killing Perry.

"It's not worth it," he said, pulling her away by her shoulders so the heaving man could draw breath. "_He's_ not worth it."

"H – Harsh, boss," Perry wheezed. "Harsh."

Bane and Tukson were out. Probably for the best. Tukson had barely spent any time with them as it was, but Bane was too recognisable to be seen by an investigative reporter. There couldn't be that many people his size in Vale. While everyone else busied themselves hiding any personal effects that might give them away, Jaune sat on an upturned bollard and tried to think up a way out of this.

Having a journalist so close could be good and bad – more like nine tenths bad and one tenth good. Since the plan was to get the message out that they'd gone good, they'd have needed media attention at some point. On the other hand, getting Lisa Lavender was probably the worst of the lot. She was a sensationalist reporter. Plus, she'd been kidnapped. Not the best of first impressions. Somehow still not the worst either, but then his introduction to the White Fang had been a little special.

"Boss," Yuma approached with a scroll in hand. "I've got a call. Someone who claims to have had a deal with Adam. They want to speak with you."

"Now?" he asked with a groan.

"They sound insistent. Cinder, apparently." He held his hand over the scroll, though it probably didn't cut much out. "Between you and me, she sounds pretty arrogant. All `you _will_ put me through to him`." His mimicry of a sultry voice didn't do a very good job of conveying femininity. "Really seems to see herself as royalty or something."

Great. Just what he needed. Whatever Adam was up to, or bad been up to, he didn't have the time to deal with now. They could wait, he was sure.

"Tell her I'm busy and she can call back another time. I've got more important things to deal with."

/-/

Cinder lowered her scroll, expression carefully neutral and eyes fixed ahead, narrowed into thin slits. Emerald and Mercury sat nearby but wisely chose to say nothing, understanding without needing to be told that interruption might end poorly for them. With a long and not-so-calming breath, she put the scroll down and forced herself to take a sip of tea.

The tea bubbled in the mug, heated by her hand which was currently on fire.

"He hung up on me."

Mercury tried not to breathe. Emerald shrunk down.

"He. Hung up. On me." Her cup of tea came up, liquid dripping out as her hand and the mug itself trembled with fury. "More important things to deal with. More. Important. Things. More important than I, Cinder Fall?"

The cup slammed down and shattered. Only the handle remained gripped between her fingers.

Someone was going to pay for that.

/-/

Lisa Lavender blinked her eyes blearily and stared up at a ceiling that wasn't her apartment's. The delicate and lovely flower of the news world narrowed her eyes as a singular thought came crashing down into her head.

_Oh shit. Did I get roaring drunk and end up in someone's bed again? _Not the first time, nor likely to be the last. Her head pounded hard enough for alcohol to have been involved and she groaned, rolling over in search of a glass of water. There was no one else in the bed with her, but she could hear footsteps. _Let him be cute. Let him be cute. Let him be at least relatively close to my age._

Blue jeans, slim enough body and golden blond hair. He was, to her relief, quite fit. The muddied little cheer her brain let off trailed into a scream as her eyes roamed higher and finally took in his face. Her heart leapt into her throat.

"Please tell me you're over eighteen," she blurted out. "A-And that you just look young for your age."

The boy blinked. "I'm seventeen."

Shiiit.

Lisa had a rule. A simple rule. She reported on the news; she did not _become_ the news. This… This had newsworthy all over it. His face looked familiar for another reason as well, but that didn't quite compute past the fact she'd gone and slept with a teenager.

"O-Okay," she stammered. "I can work with this. You shouldn't have been drinking anyway. Hell, I shouldn't have been drinking. How about we both agree to never talk of this again and no one has to get in trouble?"

"I don't know what you're talking about…"

"Exactly." Lisa winked, then groaned as that made her head spin. "Ugh. How rough were you? I feel like my head's about to split in two. Did we drink that much? Tell me I didn't come onto you. Tell me it was the other way around."

"You didn't come onto me."

"Yay," she cheered weakly.

"I didn't come onto you either. I think you're misunderstanding the situation."

"Only thing I'm misunderstanding is why there isn't something for me to drink." Eyes closed, she groped around on the nearby table. "And why does it smell so bad? Don't you clean your apartment? Do you have any painkillers, too? My head is killing me."

"Hey boss!" a peppy voice yelled. "I brought some food in case she-" The second man who came into the scene – oh hell no, she hadn't gotten involved in an orgy had she? – was tall with tanned skin, brown hair and, more noticeably, a bone white mask on his face. "Huh. Guess she's awake."

Mask. White mask. Bat-like wings. Faunus.

White mask.

"Don't panic," the blond told her. The blond who, now that she looked closer, looked familiar for a good reason. "Don't panic," he said again. "And whatever you do, don't scream."

Lisa screamed.

Jaune Arc, wanted terrorist, shouted something angrily.

In response, Lisa screamed louder. It felt like the ring thing to do. He stepped forward and she pushed back, kicking her way up the bed to escape him until her back was to the headboard. Her mouth remained open, continuously screaming as several other figures, all masked, poked their heads through the entranceway to watch her doom.

"Please!" she begged.

"Whatever you're thinking," he yelled, "Stop. I'm not going to kill-"

"Please don't take out your beastly lusts on me!"

"I – what?" Jaune Arc blinked. "Is that racist? I feel like that's racist. Also, what!? I'm not…" He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face. "Can someone give me a hand here? Stop watching from the door. This isn't a spectator sport!"

"Why?" a shortish girl asked. "Looks like you have everything handled."

"Ilia!"

"Oh gee. Thanks for completely ruining my cover…"

"It's not like she can even hear-" The screams reached a new pitch. "STOP SCREAMING!" he yelled, pushing his face right up in hers.

Lisa stopped, terrified.

"That worked?" He looked surprised. "I mean, thanks. Yeah. That's better. So…" He leaned back, tugged at his collar and looked to his allies. They all shrugged, few willing to step in. "You're Lisa Lavender," he said. "Is that right?"

"N-No. I'm her twin sister, Laura."

He held up her purse. "Your ID says Lisa."

"Lisa asked me to buy her some milk from the shops and gave me her purse. I'm Laura." Smiling as best she could, she rambled on. "I-If you want to get Lisa back for that article she wrote about you, I-I can tell you where she lives. You just need to let me go and not take out your anger on me."

"That article. Yeah." His face darkened. "What was that all about?"

"I wouldn't know," she insisted. "On account of not being Lisa Lavender."

He sighed. "Are we really doing this? Look, we know who you are."

"Y-Yeah. I'm Laura. I just told you that."

"We know that you're the journalist behind that unflattering article."

"My sister's article…"

"And we know you're a hack journalist who makes stuff up to sell a story because she doesn't know how to write a proper article for herself," the girl in the doorway interrupted. Lisa's blood boiled and she pushed up on hands and knees.

"What did you just say? I'm no hack. I'm the best in Vale!"

The girl smirked beneath her mask. "I thought that was your sister?"

"Ah… well, um…" Lisa smiled hopefully. "Family pride?"

"Odd time to have it when you were just trying to sell her out for your safety," Jaune remarked. "Now that we've got _that_ out the way, how about we move onto clearing the other thing up." He leaned forward. "We're not killing you."

Lisa waited. Not killing didn't mean not hurting, torturing or a whole bunch of other things, but as she waited to hear what they _would do_ and nothing came, she felt her hopes raise just a little. Nervously, she licked her lips.

"You won't…?"

"No. We're not terrorists."

They were. Obviously. It was the White Fang for crying out loud. Lisa had personally seen videos of them executing SDC personnel and the stats and figures on their crimes were readily available, both outside Vale and within. Even the man before her had run a car over the central bridge in a police chase that she still regretted not having been there to cover. She'd taken a night off thinking nothing would go down, letting that dipshit Rory take her shift, cover the story and rake in a huge fucking bonus for it. Asshole hadn't stopped taunting her since.

So, yeah, him saying they weren't terrorists was about as believable as him saying he wasn't a faunus, but if that meant her coming out in one piece? Well… "Oh, I know," she lied. "You're not terrorists at all. You're…"

What was it the deranged madmen called themselves again? Oh yeah.

"Revolutionaries? Freedom fighters."

Jaune Arc sighed.

"Funny," the girl said again. "I think the words you used were `violent extremists` in your piece."

"I'm expected to write certain things. It doesn't mean I agree with them. I mean, just the other week I had to write a story about how sweet it was for a local company to donate ten thousand lien to charity. Ten thousand! They evade tax to a higher amount than that." PR was PR, however. "This is the same. I could lose my job if I wrote you guys as being anything other than psychopaths."

Which wasn't exactly true; she had quite a bit of free reign, and the violent extremists line had been her own. What did they expect? They attacked dust convoys, blew up trains and killed people based on whether they were faunus or not.

The reasons _why_ they might want to spare her life were pretty obvious.

"Do you want me to write a nicer article? I can do that. I mean, you can just leave me a list of your demands and I'll write them out and have them published. Front page," she promised, more than willing to pull in a host of favours if it meant getting away alive. "I'll have it splashed all over Vale. I swear. You just need to let me go safe."

"We're already letting you go."

"Y-You are…?" Lisa licked her lips again. "Just to be sure, `letting me go` means releasing me in one piece, right? Alive? This isn't like one of those `freeing me` as in `freeing my head from my shoulders` things? Freeing me from fear and pain? Letting me go from life…?"

"What? No!" Jaune groaned. "Where do people get these ideas from!?"

"Adam," the girl in the doorway said.

"Adam," the dark-skinned bat faunus said.

"Adam," Lisa agreed, having written numerous pieces on the man and his crimes. "He did have a certain uh… flair for the cutting of heads. And the killing of prisoners. And other things I probably don't want to know about. Not that I have anything against you," she blurted out. "Cross-dressing is a harmless hobby compared to the things he got up to."

"Cross-?" Jaune looked down, cursed and pulled the cat ears out his hair. "Ignore this please."

She made no promises. Now that `death` seemed to be off the table – and it genuinely did look like they meant that – her panic had begun to recede, which meant other, more honed, aspects of her training were coming back. Her nose twitched, fingers itching for a recorder or notepad and pen that weren't there.

Lisa smelled a story.

"So," she said, "If you're not going to kill or threaten me, could I trouble you for an interview?"

"You changed your tune quick," the girl by the door muttered.

"Ilia, was it?" Lisa smiled as the girl cursed, growled and pulled off her mask. "I could interview you as well if you like. A new leader of the White Fang and his torrid romance with an underling. A forbidden relationship between – why are you making gagging sounds?"

Ilia was retching.

"He's not _that_ ugly."

"Let's just say the boss isn't her type," the silver-haired woman said airily. "He's missing a few things. And has certain other things Ilia isn't a fan of. And have you ever considered _not_ just making up a story on the spot? You _could_ report the truth, you know."

Lisa chuckled. "The truth doesn't sell newspapers. Speaking of, do you mind if I write you as having red eyes that glow like twin flames?" she asked her kidnapped.

"Yes," Jaune said. "Actually, I do mind."

"Perfect."

"Isn't it a little too early to be taunting us when you were just afraid for your life?"

Lisa's smile came out quick, her answer quicker, "Oh, I'm still half-convinced you're going to kill me and am just babbling to keep my brain occupied." Her laughter was nothing short of hysterical. "Or maybe this is my way of getting my last kicks in before I die." Laughing on, she didn't think any of them missed how wide her eyes were. Terror had that effect. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha."

"Nice one, boss. Ten minutes and you've broken her already."

"I've not broken-" He sighed. "Look, get her in the back of the van. We've work to do."

Lisa's laughter trailed off into frightened whimpers.

"Oh for the love of – not killing you! We're not criminals. Charity work!" When that failed to yield any result, he sighed a second time. "You know what, maybe we'll just prove it to you. Looks like the only thing that's going to work."

/-/

Jaune rode in the front of the van with Ilia, listening to Lisa singing an off-tune song in the back in what he'd first thought was an attempt to rile them up, but come to realise was actually to keep her calm in what she still thought might be the run up to her execution.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered. "How bad is our reputation that she'd jump to that?"

"Pretty bad," Ilia admitted, also whispering. "Adam really wasn't the most tolerant of people and we mentioned before that the previous White Fang cell here was shut down. That wasn't peacefully. We still don't know how the authorities found it, but plenty of people died on both sides. Doesn't help that before he came here, Adam was already bombing trains and the like."

"Why? What possible goal does that work towards?"

"Making the humans afraid of us?"

"Sure, I get that. How does that result in peace between the races, though? If Step one is revolt, Step two is spread terror and Step four is profit, then what is step three?" Ilia didn't answer. "You don't even know!?"

"No, I do. It's just…" Biting her lip, Ilia looked away. Fortunately, Yuma was driving. And listening in. He wasn't even trying to be subtle. "That's not exactly the plan for everyone. There are schisms in the White Fang, just like anywhere else. That's why it cracked in the first place with Ghira and Kali wanting peaceful means and Sienna wanting more aggressive action. It goes beyond that."

"What she's saying," Yuma interrupted, "Is that even on the `violent side` of things, there are schisms. Sienna wants violence to grab attention, but her ultimate goal is still legal change and protections for faunus. In an ideal world, she wants us to disband heroes and go back to being normal people after forcing the Kingdoms to capitulate."

"That sounds alright," Jaune said, brightening up.

"And then there's people like Adam," Ilia said. "And the Albain brothers. Their goals are less forcing change and more… well…"

"Faunus war. They want another faunus war."

Jaune's history scores weren't the highest but put `war` next to anything and he could figure it out. Something called the faunus war wasn't going to be a high school cheerleader deathmatch, was it? "Why? That sounds like the dumbest idea ever."

"Not really. We _won_ the faunus war. Guess they think we can do it again."

"Maybe we can and maybe we can't," Ilia said. "Point is, we've probably got more chance evoking change by winning a war than we do through peaceful protest, as much as I hate admitting that. I'm not exactly Little Miss Likes Killing or anything, but even I can tell the Kingdoms don't _want_ to change. They don't _want_ equality. And no amount of waving signs and pointing out how horrible conditions are is going to make them change their minds on that."

Whether that was true or not, starting a war was a little beyond his goals for clearing his name. "We're going with the Sienna approach. No Adam-ing anyone."

"Okay."

"Cool."

He stared at them. "You're really this blasé about it? About me just changing how things are done?"

"Sure." Yuma shrugged, eyes on the road. "Why wouldn't we be? Both routes have the same destination in mind. I don't really care much about the method so long as we're fighting the good fight."

"If this way works, so be it," Ilia echoed. "You won't find any argument with me."

The unmarked van began to slow down, the one driven by Tukson behind theirs doing the same. Indicating loudly, they pulled off the road and into an abandoned multi-story carpark that would be perfect for concealing them as they shipped supplies to the homeless. Also perfect for concealing them as they murdered a nosey journalist he realised as Lisa began hyperventilating in the back.

"You're not in any danger," he called back for the umpteenth time.

"I've been kidnapped by the White Fang!"

"Exactly. No danger."

For some reason, the logic didn't convince her.

Tukson parked his van next to theirs and Jaune pushed the door open, holding it for Ilia who slid out behind. Trifa stepped out the passenger door of theirs and opened the back, letting Bane pull his body out. He carried a push trolley with him they could use to move the pallets of food down to street level.

Jaune opened the back of theirs, instantly faced with a nervous journalist with her knees up against her chest. He opened his mouth to explain _yet again_, but gave up with a sigh and said, "Get out. We need those pallets you're trying to merge into."

Lisa scrambled out and shivered in the cool air. "What's in them?" she asked. "Guns? Dust? Narcotics?" Rummaging under the cover, Jaune tossed her a packet. "Instant noodles?"

"Just add water. It's the most filling food we could think to get them." He'd initially suggested canned food, only to have it pointed out that they'd lack not only a can opener, but also a microwave or oven to cock anything in. The only things some of these people had access to was a fire and, if they were lucky, a public restroom they could use to for tap water.

"Who is them?" Lisa asked.

"The homeless people," Ilia said. "You know, the ones we've been preying on?"

Lisa winced and moved skittishly out the way when Bane lumbered toward her. Or the vehicle. He stooped and bent at the knees, picking up the entire pallet with a grunt and bringing it out the back of the van. Meanwhile, Tukson and Yuma had to work together to slide theirs onto the wheeled trolley, and both were panting by the time they got it done.

"Okay," Jaune said. "Trifa and Yuma on lookout like last time. Tukson, I want you to watch the vans. Everyone else helps to deliver these to those in need. If you're not pushing a pallet, carry some blankets or medicine."

"W-What about me?"

Ilia tossed a bundle of blankets at Lisa's face. She didn't so much catch them as stagger back and manage to stay standing. "You're included in _everyone else_ obviously. Sheesh. Did all that makeup rot your brain?"

"Well excuse me for not thinking straight! I've been _kidnapped_ by terrorists."

"I said sorry," Perry mumbled.

"And I don't forgive you!"

It really was odd how back and forth she could be. Panic, he supposed. They had to call it mind-numbing for a reason, and Lisa was definitely on the edge of her metaphorical seat. Taking his place behind the trolley, he grunted and pushed it forward, trying not to feel too emasculated as Bane lumbered alongside with his in hand.

There were people waiting for them outside. Waiting anxiously and with a fair amount of forlorn hope. He spotted the old faunus who talked to him last time, the man seeming to lose a few years as he saw them finally approach. _I bet they didn't expect us to come back,_ he thought. _I wonder if they see us how the media does, as just trying to recruit them through kindness._ Telling them that wasn't the case wouldn't change anything.

"Make space," he said loudly. "We'll be carrying supplies here. Don't push or you're likely to get crushed by something. Hey…" He trailed off, not remembering or unsure if the elderly faunus had ever introduced himself. "Can you help hand these out? We don't really know the faunus here and we want to spread it as evenly as we can."

The old timer smiled. "Aye. I'll help. And thank ye."

Letting the pallet down, he worked the lever until he could pull the trolley out from underneath. The hungry faunus crowded around, but thankfully didn't rush them, likely still afraid of the masked figures.

_Hopefully, that reaction will change soon._

He spared a look for Lisa. She was working with Ilia and handing out blankets to young and elderly. Her face was neutral, neither surprised nor impressed with the work but not against it either. He swept over, nudging Ilia with his elbow.

"There's plenty more in the vans to hand out." To Lisa, he added, "Once we're done, you can stay here while we leave. I'm sure you can make your way back home safely."

"Ah-? W-Well, yes. Of course. Safely…"

Did she still doubt them? Chances where she would all the way up until she was home and safe and could finally accept he'd told the truth. If that was what it took, there was nothing to be done. "We're not interested in fighting or harming people, Lisa. We're trying to make a change. Show Vale that the White Fang isn't just a dangerous group of killers."

And that _he_ was at the head of that. The most un-dangerous and un-criminal of the lot.

At which point, he could quit and go home.

After two more back and forth journeys to the van, Lisa appeared to have calmed down a little. He wasn't sure she'd accepted that she was being let go, but she was less tense. When next they handed out blankets, she hovered close to him as Ilia went for more.

"Do you really think this will make a difference?"

Surprised, he glanced her way. "Huh? Which bit? The food…?"

"All of it. To them, to you and to the city." Her tone was low, her words barely a whisper. "No matter how much you give them, they'll still be homeless at the end of the day, and no matter how much good you do, you'll still be terrorists as long as your past crimes exist."

"People can change."

"People can," she admitted, "But since when does society care? This may be some ploy to impress me-"

"It's not."

"-or it may be genuine. Either way, the White Fang are still guilty of numerous crimes. You can't just wash that away with some good service. People won't forget what you've done. And I doubt the White Fang will forget what _we've_ done."

"I haven't committed any crimes," he pointed out. "All of that stuff from the White Fang's past isn't anything to do with me. I didn't even plan to-"

"That won't matter. I've been doing this a lot longer than you have. I know how this works." Lisa sighed angrily. "I've seen good people go down for things they didn't deserve, and the worst of people walk free because they have money, power or both. The public don't care. They just want to hear the next scandal."

"Aren't you a part of that? You're the one feeding them…"

Lisa looked away. "I didn't _want_ to be like this. Do you think I dreamed of being a journalist so I could shadow famous people, leak stories and pander to idiots? Of course not! I wanted to be a hard-hitting investigative reporter. I wanted to be a beacon of truth and someone people felt they could trust."

Curious, he asked, "What changed?"

"Nothing. Nothing changed. That's the problem. I worked my ass off for a story that exposed a local company for exploiting its workers, and do you know what happened?" Angrily, she crossed her arms. "I got fired. Too hot to publish, they said. They were a major advertiser and we would've lost money. I was buried in NDA's and forced out. Far as I know, it's still going on. And you know what? The readers wouldn't even have cared. Oh, they'd talk about how awful it is, but they wouldn't stop using that company or anything. And as soon as a celeb sleeps with someone they shouldn't, that scandal would take centre stage."

"That's…"

"Awful?" she guessed. "Contemptable? I've heard it before. I even agree. But it's also reality and I had to change _my_ view of the world to fit into it. That's the thing. Society won't change. They force others to conform to them – which is why _this_," she gestured to the blankets and food, "Won't change the way the city sees you. Sorry. It's lovely and I'm starting to think you really do want to help them – I mean, it makes sense if you're all faunus – but aside from buying them a little comfort, this won't change anything."

If that was true, his chances of getting out a free man were slipping away as well. The longer he was a part of the White Fang, the guiltier he'd be by association. But if making them peaceful couldn't change the way people saw them, then she was telling him he might as well give up and accept prison. That couldn't be the only way. Turning away, he closed his eyes.

"I still have to try…"

Lisa drew a sharp breath. "Even knowing it's doomed to failure? The faunus don't hold the monopoly on suffering, you know. This is bad, but there are just as many homeless humans as faunus. The city doesn't care about any of them."

"Even then. I… I don't have a choice."

Not if he wanted to get out of this in one piece. Failure or not, he had to try. It might have sounded idealistic to her and anyone listening, but it wasn't. It was selfish and he accepted it. Had he been allowed into Beacon and avoided Adam altogether, he wouldn't be here trying to help the homeless. He'd spare some change, comment on how awful it was and be as useless as those people Lisa spoke of. The only reason he was here trying to make a difference was so that _he_ could get out of trouble. So they'd realise he wasn't a criminal.

Forcing his eyes open, he walked away from her, leaving her behind as he handed out more foodstuffs to those he could, at least until Yuma arrived and informed them the police were mobilising again.

"Time for us to go."

"What about me?" Lisa asked, nervous but not quite as much as before. She stood with the homeless, one hand on the pallet of food. Jaune looked to it, her, and then smiled weakly. His heart wasn't in it and she could tell.

"What about you?"

They slipped away before the police arrived.

/-/

Dawn broke and went by, unnoticed by those trapped in a stinking sewer. It was the sizzle of bacon and eggs that brought them to life, each member of their sorry party stumbling into the communal room with praise and adoration for Bane, up as usual and cooking with fresh back bacon bought from a local grocery store Jaune was convinced the owner of which had a crush on Bane if the sheer amount of food she sold him was any indication.

Ilia came down with a snort, free to roam up top. Without a word, she tossed the morning's newspaper down on the table. The front page included his face as it had the day before, along with a new headline.

_Jaune Arc; Curious or Cross-dresser. You decide._

"Is this for fucking real?" Yuma asked, tossing it away with a groan. "After all the shit we went through, _this_ is what she chooses to focus on? I think we should've gone with the original plan and given her the Adam surprise."

Not even Jaune could disagree, everyone grumbling as they dug into their food.

"There's something else," Ilia said. "I was approached by the faunus we helped last night. He said someone we knew gave him this." She pushed a manilla envelope, sealed, onto the upturned road sign. It was unmarked. "He was asked to deliver it to us the next time we came by. I went to check on them, make sure the police didn't confiscate the food we left."

"Did they?" Jaune asked, reaching for the envelope.

"You bet they did."

Deery cursed angrily.

"It's `evidence` now." Ilia made quotation marks in the air. "But the old guy assured me they took and hid what they could."

Shaking his head, Jaune slid a finger into the envelope and popped it open. Out slid a number of pages, each printed off a computer. Documents. It was all text and no images, with one being a word document and the next being a print-out of an email chain. Jaune laid them out on the table and read the title for them all.

"Jaune Arc: Villain or Victim."

"Hah?" Deery leaned over his shoulder, resting her chin atop his head. "Is that an article draft?"

"It looks like it…" He didn't take the time to read it all, but instead turned over to the email chain, which showed that the document had been sent to the editor of the news group she worked for. The response from the editor was simple.

"_Denied_."

Written beneath that, in red pen and cursive script jotted onto the print-out, was a simple message, presumably from Lisa.

"I tried. This is how the world works."

Jaune let the pages fall and leaned back, accidentally into Deery's chest. She didn't seem to mind, as bummed herself by what she could read. They all were. Yuma growled and punched the table, while Ilia placed her chin atop her elbow and sighed. Deery moved over him, reaching down to pick it up and read in more detail. It didn't really matter if it wasn't going to be published.

"Hey, there's something else here," she said. "Another article that was denied. Whoah. This one's from two years ago."

He looked up.

"It's a fashion company nearby. They make shirts and sportswear. Pretty popular. Whoah." Deery leaned back with a startled yell. "This is horrible! They're basically trapping their employees in ridiculous contracts, working them in illegal conditions but using an anti-espionage loophole in their contracts to make it so staff can't talk about what goes on inside. All because they make uniforms for Atlas military and our own boys in blue, and they're saying if bad people get hold of that info, it could be used against them. In the meanwhile, since they can't complain about bad conditions, the people working there are being mistreated."

"How badly?" Trifa asked.

"There are statistics here. Wow. This is good reporting. It says there have been at least two ambulance visits a week and one heart attack on shift – and that the person who had a heart attack lost their job over it."

"Faunus?" Ilia asked.

"No. Humans. And faunus," she amended, reading further. "They're working everyone to the bone."

"Equal-opportunities scumbags," Yuma ventured. "Is that a good thing?"

"Not really." Deery flicked through the pages. "Yeah, it got denied like the first article, and there's a note on the email saying she has to come in for a meeting immediately. Shit, this has, like, twenty people CC'd into the chain. Some big names, too."

Right before Lisa got hit with the NDA's.

"It's a shame," Trifa said. "If it were faunus, we could probably do something about it, but it'd look strange if the White Fang mobilised to save humans _and_ faunus. That's not exactly what we stand for – boss!?"

Jaune was on his feet, bollard-chair knocked back.

"We've found our next target."

"But the victims aren't all faunus…"

"Exactly." He slammed a hand on the table. "They've been able to paint our actions as having ulterior motives because we've focused on addressing the problems only faunus have." As Lisa said, the faunus didn't have the monopoly on misery. "We're going to save _humans_ tonight. That'll confuse them."

"It confuses me," Yuma admitted. "What's in this for us?"

"The company owners are still human," Jaune offered. "And they'll be going to jail after we expose their crimes. After the _White Fang_ comes to the defence of innocent people, regardless of race, and protects them. If we truly want equality for faunus, we need to accept that means equality for humans too." He wasn't sure they were all convinced, but most of them nodded along anyway, at least seeing the logic even if they didn't personally like the idea. "Any questions?"

Yuma raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"Do I get to beat said asshole owners up in the name of justice for abused humans?"

Jaune sighed. "Yes, Yuma. Yes, you do."

"Sweet. I'm in."

* * *

**No Adam this chapter. Sorry. Man, writing today hasn't been easy with people going on about New Years and all that. Should have really expected that in advance, but no one ever tells me what we're going to be doing. I look at my schedule, see it's free, then people make plans at like, the last possible second, and I'm considered dull if I don't accept that.**

**Going out to get blitzed tonight, I suppose. **

**I know this chapter is low on the slapstick. I put some in where I could, but there's going to be deviation as the story both tries to portray the White Fang groupies as a dysfunctional family, while also addressing the rather serious elements of racism and criminal action. Don't worry, while there will be moments like this, I will be aiming to balance them. Next chapter will be more comedic as they go on their mission. It's usually easier to write the slapstick when the characters are _doing_ something dangerous, because you can twist events for comedic effect. **

**I couldn't help the small call out to Adam when Jaune offers his final words to Lisa.**

"**What about you…?"**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 14****th**** January**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	6. Chapter 6

**Here we go**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 6**

* * *

"Saving humans. What's next, protecting the SDC? Would you have us brand faunus for them?"

Jaune looked around blearily before realising he was in another of his dreams where his brain was still trying to convince him that a) Adam was really here and b) he should feel some smidgeon of guilt about the fact. If nothing else, he'd give his imagination this: It was stubborn. Stood on nothingness, looking down at infinity, Jaune indulged in something he wouldn't in real life and idly picked his nose.

"You are – are you even listening to me!?"

"No. Not really."

"Fool." Adam scoffed. It was strange how he could make such a simple word sound like the worst slur. "You're playing at games you don't understand, believing people's minds can be changed in an instant. You're in for a rude awakening."

"At least _I'll_ wake up from this."

Adam scowled under his mask. "You're also making a mistake with Cinder."

"Who?"

"Cinder. The woman who called Yuma and whom you hung up on."

"Why is that a big deal? I was busy trying to do a big raid. And the only person I really need to take calls from is Sienna, surely."

"It's not quite so simple. If you ignore Cinder like that, she will ki-" Adam paused. "Actually, you're right. It _is_ that simple. Ignore her. Ignore her as hard as you can. And don't worry about any threats she makes; she's harmless. Tell her so. Tell that to her face."

"I can't help but feel you're trying to get me in trouble…"

"How could I? I'm a figment of your imagination."

"True. Maybe I'm paranoid."

"Yes," Adam said. "That must be it. Back on topic, you're saving humans. Why? They won't thank you for it."

"In case you've forgotten, _I'm_ human."

"Not anymore you're not."

Jaune made a confused sound.

"_Human_ is the definition the masses will give you. What you are biologically matters little if they decide you're not one of them. They will make their minds up, cling to what they decide and refuse to accept any proof to the contrary. You may not be faunus by blood, but you are faunus by association. And that is something they will never let you forget, nor forgive you for."

That was the most Adam had ever said at one time, and without any snark too. No, Not Adam, he reminded himself. Just his imagination. As such, it was his panic and fears talking. "I think I'll take my chances. People can't be _that_ stupid."

Adam's laughter followed him to wakefulness and into the leering face of Perry, who was squatted on his bed for some reason, knees bent and staring into his eyes.

"Hey boss. Pleasant dreams?"

Jaune grumbled.

"Deery told me to wake you up. Mission is in an hour and we need you to come up with a plan."

/-/

The plan was simple.

That was how his father always told him to keep them. "Keep it simple, son," he would say, abbreviating it to KISS in a way that never stopped being creepy when said from old man to young boy. Simple plans were less likely to fall apart, had less things that had to go right and didn't ask too much from everyone involved. Simplicity was good. Jaune punched his hand down onto the road-sign table.

"We go in. Find the evidence and expose them. Any questions?"

Everyone's hands went up.

_But I made the plan so simple. Why?_

"How do we go in?" Ilia asked.

"Where are we even going?" Yuma echoed.

"Are we going in the front door all guns blazing or sneaking in?" Trifa.

"What's our escape route?" Tukson.

"What evidence are we looking for?" Perry.

"Wait, are we attacking while the factory is still open so we can catch them abusing staff?" Deery looked confused. "I thought we were doing this at night."

"I don't understand the plan," Ilia admitted, head falling. "Can we have more details?"

Banesaw didn't ask any questions. Banesaw understood. Jaune looked to him with hope in his eyes, only to see him playing with a tiny insect he'd found on the table, letting it walk over his finger and gently helping it to the floor so it could carry on its way.

_Dad, your advice is as useless as ever. Thanks._

"It's really easy," he said. "A three-step plan. Step one: We go in."

"How do we go in?"

"When do we go in?"

"In what manner do we go in?"

"What _is_ in…?" Perry looked around when everyone turned to stare at him. "What? I thought I'd be philosophical about it. Don't look at me like that."

Step one and they were already faltering. Great. To be fair, the reason he didn't want to go into explicit detail was because he hadn't planned anything more complicated than a trip to the local shops, and with seven sisters, even that had gotten out of control and ended up with them banned from ever coming near it again.

How _did_ one attack a factory? How _did_ one procure evidence that proved abuse against staff? He didn't know. He'd been kind of hoping _they_ did. Hoping that by giving them free reign to decide how to handle things, they'd do it for him and better than he ever could. Jaune leaned back, crossed his hands over one knee and said, "I'm open to ideas."

"You're the boss," Ilia pointed out. "Shouldn't you decide?"

"If I decide everything, what happens if I get captured? I think we need to expand our team and incorporate fresh ideas. Diversify. Synergise. Expand our portfolio. Make sure we're all singing from the same hymn sheet and embrace blue-sky thinking."

"Are you just throwing our buzzwords?"

"That's _giving-up_ talk, Deery. Are you a giver-upper? I won't have it."

"Yeah, Deery," Perry said, poking her side. "Don't be a giver-upper."

Deery turned and kicked Perry's wooden box chair out from under him. No one made an effort to help him.

"So," Trifa said. "You want _us_ to take part in planning…? Normally, Adam made all the calls."

"Exactly." Jaune smiled innocently. "And where _is_ Adam?"

"Point taken." Trifa shrugged and pointed to the documents from Lisa. "I think we should send someone to hit their lawyer as well as them. NDA's are legal, right? That means documentation and that's evidence."

Ooh. He hadn't thought of that. "Good idea. Would that be on site?"

"Probably not," Tukson said. "Big company like that is going to have a big law office in the city. Wouldn't be hard to find out who, though. Companies like to boast when they win a big contract, so chances are the law office would have released a press release." He had his scroll out. "Found it. Smithson, Smithson and Smithson."

"Interesting name. Alright. We need someone to sneak in there and find documents. Who would be best?"

"Ilia," three of them answered as one, Ilia included.

"On your own?"

"I can use my Semblance better if I don't have to worry about anyone. And it's just a law office late at night. I doubt there'll be anyone there. Just a few alarms."

"Alright. That's your job. What else?"

"We still need to hit the factory," Yuma said, "And I want to hit the humans responsible for this cruelty." He didn't. He just wanted to hit someone. "That said, we're better off sneaking in at night. Not that I think the guys working there can fight for beans, but if we're meant to be saving them from abuse, probably best not to put any of them in the hospital ourselves."

Mumbled agreement. Jaune nodded and wrote `night attack` on the plan.

"Thing is," Trifa said. "If Ilia is already going after evidence, then we don't need to do much other than shut the place down. We don't need to capture anyone, though if we could grab the ones in charge that'd be good. But if our purpose is to look good like Yuma says, we need to send a symbolic message. I say we close the place down."

"No bombs," Jaune said quickly. "It'd reinforce the terrorist angle."

"Which we are," Yuma pointed out.

"Still no bombs. No exceptions."

Perry looked curiously disappointed.

"We can disable the machinery," Deery offered. "Just, you know, cut wires, break monitors and stuff. Problem is we might end up costing those people their jobs if we do – and sure, the conditions are bad, but that probably means they don't have much in the way of options."

"Cameras," Tukson said. "They must have cameras. More evidence of ill-treatment and something we can post online."

The plan slowly came together, and with little input from Jaune other than to jot it down. While Ilia would strike the legal office and retrieve the documents peacefully, they would take a more direct approach on the factory, attacking while it was closed, finding the security room and checking the cameras. If nothing was found, they'd then head to the head offices to look for more. If all else failed, sabotage the machinery and leave.

"We should have a contingency," Tukson said. "If all else goes wrong and we don't find any proof."

That was obvious. "In that case, we leave without doing anything." Grinning, Jaune leaned back and looked over the plan. He wasn't a professional – heck, he wasn't even an amateur – but it _sounded_ plausible, and they all knew more than he did. "Looks like this is it. If all goes well, we should be alright."

"Yeah." Perry patted his back. "Awesome plan, boss."

"I didn't-"

"Yeah. Good plan."

"This is _your_ plan!" Jaune groaned. _"You_ all made the plan. I did nothing!"

"Better than any of Adam's."

"Totally."

"Good work, boss."

Jaune sighed and massaged his temples. Idiots. Idiots, all of them.

/-/

"Why can't I drive?"

"Because," Deery snarled back at Perry, bringing their van into a slow stop by the closed gates that led into the walled compound outside the factory. It was an ugly looking building and the signs outside with various fashion brands and celebrity figures emblazoned all over them didn't alleviate that.

"That's not a reason."

"We shouldn't need to give you one after your last stint behind the wheel," Yuma said, climbing over him and Jaune to reach the back door. He cracked it open and peeked out, then signalled for the rest to follow.

Jaune's boots hit the ground with the finality of a tolling bell. This was it. He was in White Fang uniform and although he didn't have a gun, his sword – his father's sword – was proof enough of his purpose. They were going to attack a target. Raid a business. _I thought I was trying to convince people I'm not a terrorist. What am I doing here?_

Something stupid. They wouldn't accept him just saying he wasn't. Lisa proved that. Actions spoke louder than words, but a _lack of action_ apparently meant nothing. Not attacking didn't mean he was peaceful. It just meant he was _biding his time_ or some other nonsense.

Tukson was the last to leave, slamming the door shut behind him.

"It's so dark out here," Jaune complained.

"Perfect for us," Perry said. "They're as helpless as General Lagune was."

"Who?"

"Come on, boss. Read your history…"

"Ilia should be at the law office by now. We'd best get started ourselves." Yuma slipped his mask on and planted one foot on the wall. Without being asked, Trifa came up and cupper her hands beneath him, providing a platform for his other foot and a lift. He kicked off and over, expanding his wings and gliding down on the other side.

A rope came back over, which Jaune tested once before climbing, using his feet to walk up the wall while Yuma held the rope taut. On the other side, he helped steady it while the rest came over. All except Banesaw, who gave an experimental tug and yanked Jaune and Yuma off their feet. Their heads butted and they slumped at the base of the wall.

"That's not going to work," Deery said helpfully.

"The gates are locked."

"Bane could break through them."

"Defeating the point of us sneaking in here in the first place."

Their argument was cut off as Bane grunted and jumped, catching the lip of the brick wall and using his incredible upper body strength to haul himself up and over. His muscles bulged but he managed to scale it, then land with a not-so-quiet crash between them.

"Or that," Yuma mumbled.

Luckily, no one had heard them. Jaune followed the others as they moved toward the building, having a good look at Bane's huge back and the giant chainsaw he had strapped there, which looked small in comparison to him. The damn thing would have taken him two hands to move, but he could probably wield it with one hand.

Reaching a door with a light above, Trifa knelt and began fiddling with the lock. Bane reached up to the light and bent the metal arm holding it, tilting the beam away from them. Lockpicking, it turned out, wasn't as fast or as easy as video games made it sound. Trifa hissed, muttered and swore as she worked, never breaking a pick but taking a good six minutes to get the door open.

Open it did, however, the lock clicking and holding as she gripped the picks at a weird angle. Yuma reached over her to pull the handle down and the door open before she let go. When she did, the lock clicked back into place, but it was a little late for that. They were in.

"Does this feel too easy to you?" Jaune asked.

"A little," Trifa admitted.

"You guys are used to breaking into top-secret military facilities," Tukson pointed out, accidentally lumping Jaune in with Trifa and Yuma. That they didn't counter him had him sighing. "This is a sweatshop. I don't think they're comparable in terms of security."

"He has a point," Yuma whispered. "You remember when we stole that tank from Atlas?"

"How can I not," Trifa groaned. "You crashed it through the door, ran over six robots and shot down a Bullhead."

"It was a good shot."

"_Our Bullhead_," she hissed. "You shot down our Bullhead."

"Still a good shot, and we didn't know what any of those bloody buttons did. Why is `fire main guns` not clearly marked? Or bright red and flashing? I didn't see you helping, Miss `I've been shot, I'm going to die`."

"Because I'd been shot! I thought I was dying! Especially with you screaming and pressing random buttons in some Atlas mega-tank."

"Drama queen."

"Children," Bane said, separating them bodily.

"Yeah," Jaune agreed. "Flirt later. Work now."

"We're not-"

"Never with him."

"Uhuh." Jaune ignored them. "We should try and find the security room and the head offices first. Don't suppose anyone knows where those would be?"

"Up top," Tukson guessed. "The ground floor would have to be all the heavy machinery, so they'd move the non-essential offices to the first and second floor. The higher the position, the further up you are." He shrugged. "Probably."

It was as good an idea as any.

"We should split up," Perry said.

That was… less of a good idea and Jaune said so.

"It's just a clothes factory, boss. What's the worst we'll face? Bad stitching?"

The others agreed and he reluctantly let them split up, with him, Trifa and Deery taking the staircase up to the top floor to find the boss' office, while Tukson, Perry and Yuma swept for security. Bane would stay on the bottom to watch the entrance and make sure no one came to interrupt them. If they needed to, he'd also be in position to damage the machinery on the ground floor. They stuck together up the quiet staircase, but the other party split off at the first exit, leaving them to travel higher with Jaune in the lead.

_There shouldn't be any danger here. Who guards a clothes factory? They'll have cameras and alarms, but by the time anyone comes to investigate, we'll be long gone._

Peeking out the door to the top floor, the corridors were dimly lit by overnight lighting, but still as the grave. That didn't quite still his racing heart, but he crept out anyway, Deery and Trifa behind. No cries for them to stop. No blaring alarms.

"This looks like the office wing," Trifa said, not bothering to whisper. Her voice made him jump.

"Shhh!" Deery hissed, very much on his level of panic. Unlike Trifa and Yuma, she was a volunteer member, a normal girl from the city before she joined, and thus not quite as confident about breaking into places.

"You two." Trifa rolled her eyes but didn't whisper. "It's fine. Even if someone was here, how would they hold up against us? We have aura, Semblances and training."

"I don't have my aura unlocked, actually." Jaune said.

"Oh boss," Trifa laughed. "You crack me up."

Trifa strode down the hallway reading the signs on the various doors. Her confidence trickled down to him and Deery, who exchanged nervous looks but started to walk upright again. If nothing else, Trifa would take an attack before they did.

The offices were labelled both by names and positions, with some just being `Sales` and others with bigger titles like `Marketing Dept` or `IT Dept`. The `Board Room` seemed promising but was just an empty room with a large round table, a projector screen and several magazines. They continued moving, peeking into the odd office through doors that were, for the most part, unlocked. The `Accounts Dept` was locked up, as was the IT, but neither was likely to have what they sought.

Jaune's scroll sang. He answered. "Hello?"

"_Yuma here. We've found security. And a prisoner."_

Jaune cringed. "Is he okay?"

"_He was when we woke him up from his nap when he was meant to be manning cameras. Then he freaked out. We've got him tied up."_

"Don't hurt him. We're not here for that."

"_I know, I know. We're going through the vids now – going to see if this guy will offer anything. No torture, I promise. Just thought we should let you know."_

"Okay. Thanks. Text me if you find any concrete evidence."

Up ahead, Trifa was down on one knee by another door, Deery waiting anxiously nearby. Coming up, he read `D. Grass-Davidson, CEO` on the bronze nameplate. The lock gave way with a soft click and the door creaked open.

"Good work," Jaune whispered, slipping inside and letting the door close and lock behind them. There was a latch on the inside to unlock it. The office itself was noticeably richer than the last ones, replete with a large mahogany desk, a plush chair behind it, an alcohol cabinet, a fish tank brightly lit and several golden ornaments on the desk itself. There was a bookcase and two filing cabinets, along with its own private restroom.

"Guess we look around," Deery said with a sigh. "I'll take the desk."

Shrugging, Jaune made his way to the filing cabinet.

/-/

Turns out you didn't file important and dangerous documents under `OMG Illegal. Don't let anyone see` or `Top Secret` or `Man, we're shitters`. His fingers ached as he flitted through another hundred or so files, none of which were labelled in an obvious `read me, I'm incriminating` manner and most of which were just audits, records and even such simple things as car insurance forms. Sighing, he gave up on another batch and pulled a second drawer open.

Deery was having similar luck on the desk itself, rifling through the drawers, while Trifa initially tried the terminal, but gave up after trying `Password`, `password`, `letmein` and `1234` to no success.

"Welp. That's as far as my hacking skills go," she'd declared.

No news from the others either, though if they had to go through as many recordings as he did files, it made sense. They'd been at it for thirty-five minutes, and while that felt like a long time, they had hours to work with. Painful and boring hours. _I thought stuff like this was supposed to be exciting. This is dull as muck._

Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Jaune, Trifa and Deery froze.

_I'll take the boredom! I'll take the boredom!_

There was no reason for anyone to come in here. It was a locked room that only the CEO could access. It was also the middle of the night. Jaune silently closed the filing cabinet and waited, heart hammering as the footsteps came closer. They'd surely walk on by. Either a late-night security patrol or maybe even other thieves. Maybe they could be friends. As the voices came closer, Jaune moved over to Deery and Trifa.

Two shadows appeared behind the frosted glass window. A key was inserted into the lock.

Fuck!

"_Hide!"_ he mouthed, shooing with his hands.

Suiting his own actions to words, he hurtled toward the bathroom, freezing when a voice outside literally asked if David minded if he used his restroom. Jaune's heels skidded and he backtracked, looking around desperately before going for the only cover there was. The desk. Jaune shoved himself under, squeezing into the small foot space beneath it. Immediately, Deery and Trifa did the same, there being nowhere else to hide. The three of them smooshed together, Jaune's cheek squashed up between Deery and Trifa's.

The lock clicked and the door opened.

"Be quick," a man's voice said. "This is important."

"I will be," a second man said, hurrying over the restroom. The door slammed shut. The first man sighed and moved through the office, his shoes clicking down. The three of them went still, waiting for him to come around and sit down.

The drinks cabinet clicked open and a bottle was removed. The footsteps came back, but to the other side of the desk, where two glasses clinked down and a lid was uncapped. Liquid was poured, splashing around. Once that was done, the desk creaked as someone leant against it, sitting on the other edge but ignoring the seat and the tiny crawlspace they were huddled in.

Trifa tapped his hand and hefted her gun.

Jaune shook his head. Not here. Not like that.

A flush and the sound of a tap from the restroom came before the door opened and the other man stepped back in. "That's better. Thanks for the drink, sir."

"No pleasantries, William. This is a bad situation we find ourselves in."

"I understand, Mr Davidson."

The CEO? Well, that explained how he'd let himself in, but not why. A meeting in the middle of the night didn't sound normal.

"Do you? Because of my nephew's indiscretion, we're looking at a scandal of epic proportions. It's one thing to proposition an employee, another to force the issue when they say no." D. Grass-Davidson took a long drink. "If I hadn't listened to my sister and hired the runt, this would never have happened."

"With all due respect, sir, this is hardly the first time it has. You remember my advice the last time? Fire the individual and let them take the blame. Show people we're not putting up with such things and they'll side with us."

"That won't work here. He's my sister's son and I don't need the family drama in letting him go."

"Sir, he sexually assaulted and then threatened a lower manager, along with several floor workers."

He what now? That sounded interesting. Jaune pushed a hand down between him and Deery, earning a startled flinch and a red-hot blush from her. At least until he pulled his scroll out. He held it out in front of him, thumbed through to the record app and hit the button. Trifa gave him a thumbs up, pleased with his decision.

"My idiot nephew's indiscretions aren't what's important here. What I want to know is how we'll get out of this. You know the climate, William. Joe Public is constantly against big business and we don't need news getting out."

"Then we'll have to make sure it doesn't. The manager is easy. She's worked here how long?"

"Six years."

"Exactly. After investing so much time here, she's not going to want to leave. We lean on her, impress the importance of protecting the company and her job. Offer a mix of carrot and stick. Maybe a little raise if she keeps silent, but make it clear there _will_ be a court battle if she tries to take this further. We'll argue defamation. Keep her locked up in legal fees."

"Sounds expensive."

"Only if it gets that far. I've seen her wage packet, Mr Davidson. She can't afford to go to court, especially not with two children to look after."

"Very well." Another drink, "See it done. What about the ones on the floor?"

"They might be a little harder. They've little reason to stay other than their jobs, and that's not going to be attractive considering your nephew's actions. I'd suggest transferring them to another facility. Make it clear they get to avoid him and offer a minor pay rise?"

"We can't afford that. Budget is tight."

"Sir, with all due respect, we're making a profit after tax of 14.6 million."

"Down from 18 million year-to-date. The Board is already furious, even if I assure them there's still two months to make up the difference. I promised them 20 million at the start of the year and that's not looking likely. If I do this, every other person here will get ideas. We can't afford that. I want them gone, Williams. How do I get them out my hair?"

"We can't fire them, sir. Not unless they do something to warrant it."

"Then we make their jobs so bad they want to leave."

"Constructive dismissal is no less a crime, sir."

"That's your problem to figure out, Williams. I want a concrete way to force them to resign that's within the bounds of the law, and I want it on my desk before the weekend. This shit has the potential to go sky-high, especially if the-"

Jaune's scroll made a loud and excited pinging noise.

"_Got some evidence XD ,"_ Yuma's text, filled with emojis of grinning faces, detailed.

Jaune cringed.

"What was that?" the CEO demanded.

Maybe he'd assume it was nothing. A trick of his hearing, a call on his own scroll or some silly pop-up on his computer that he could reliably ignore. Jaune held his breath, as did Trifa and Deery, all staying perfectly still.

A second electronic ping.

"_Really rough shit,"_ Yuma's second message read.

It pinged a third time.

"_Like, people throwing up and being forced to work."_

A fourth ping.

"_And even someone being kicked."_

A fifth ping.

"_This place sucks dick!"_

There would have been a sixth ping but Jaune resignedly switched his scroll to silent, sharing an apologetic look with Trifa, whose head was in her hands, and Deery, who was pinching the bridge of her nose, or where it would have been if not for her mask.

"Who's there!? Show yourselves!" Metal clicked. "I'm armed."

Jaune, Trifa and Deery rose as one. In their attempt to all get out at once, and getting stuck while doing so, the desk rose with them, carried up on their shoulders and hanging down to their waists. It was a hefty thing, but between the three of them easy to lift. They were stuck so close together that they couldn't get out from under it.

"Thieves!" the CEO roared.

"Spin!" Jaune yelled.

The command had just been so they could _see_ what was going on since they still had their backs to the two men. As one, the three of them turned, _swinging_ the sides of the desk around and clipping a suited man who must have been Williams. He flew back and hit the wall, slumping to its base with a groan. Not unconscious, but out of the fight.

The second man, D. Grass-Davidson, had a gun in hand.

"Down!" Trifa yelped.

They ducked. The desk ducked with them and the shot dug into the wooden surface, lodging in thick wood but missing them.

"Forward!" Deery yelled.

Without thinking of arguing, Jaune joined the two girls in charging forward, still trapped under the desk and carrying it with them. The huge thing, at least six foot across, rushed at the CEO like a battering ram.

"White Fang!" he gasped, seeing their masks.

He ought to have dodged.

Calling it an attack might have been too much. They ran straight into the man and barrelled him down, then crashed into the wall because they didn't have the footing to stop themselves. The desk hit first and cracked, splitting down the middle and falling on either side. Deery and Trifa fell with it, Jaune being at the centre and freed with a gasp of fresh air.

"Jaune!" Trifa yelled, trying to extricate herself from the desk. "Get him! Adam him!"

The man was staggering up, gun in hand.

Jaune's stomach lurched up into his throat. There was nowhere to hide and no hope of getting away. Without thinking, and certainly without considering what Trifa meant by `Adam him`, Jaune rushed forward, ducking low in a tackle.

The gun cracked. Pain blossomed over his shoulder and he cried out, crashing into the man a second later and dragging him down. Ignoring the burning pain, he scrambled for the gun. In his flailing, he knocked it out the man's hand, though that didn't stop the asshole gripping the bottle that had fallen off the desk and crashing it against Jaune's skull. It shattered over him, drawing blood and knocking him away.

Jaune grabbed the man's ankle when he went for the gun, tripping him up and knocking him down again. A foot came back for his face but he got an arm up in time to block it. It still hurt. A second and third stamp was enough to make him let go, but by that time the gun was lost, webbed down by Trifa, who was just getting onto her feet but had a hand outstretched. "None of that," she hissed. "Surrender or I'll show you how a spider faunus deals with her prey."

The man paled. "You'll wrap me up, suck out my insides and lay eggs in my body?"

Trifa gaped at the man, eyes wide and skin turning green. "The _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

Deery took her chance to jump on the CEO and pin him down, wrenching a hand behind his back and using a zip-tie to lock him in place. While Trifa continued to shiver, Jaune pushed himself up and dabbed at his head. His fingers came away bloody. A quick look over to the lawyer revealed the man with both hands up and empty toward him in obvious surrender.

Jaune's scroll was vibrating. Rolling over onto his back, he answered it with an angry grunt. "WHAT!?"

"_Did you get my texts?"_ Yuma asked. _"You didn't reply. You're not ignoring me, are you?"_

"I got your damn texts, Yuma," he growled. "Get up here. Who knows first aid?"

"_No one. Why? Don't tell me Trifa got shot again. What a weak-ass bitch."_

"I heard that!" Trifa yelled.

"How does no one know first aid?" Jaune asked with a pained hiss.

"_Duh. Because aura. It blocks bullets."_

"What about members who don't have it unlocked!?" Jaune cried out.

"_Ha. What kind of person in this day and age wouldn't have their aura unlocked?"_

"ME! A PERSON LIKE ME!"

"Wait," Trifa said. "You weren't joking?" She took a good look at him. "Wait," she said again, going pale. "You're bleeding. Like, really badly bleeding. Is that a hole in your shoulder? Hang on… You beat _Adam_ without aura?"

His arm gave way and fell, his scroll falling to the ground. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel everything. Including the heat burning its way through his shoulder. "C-Can we focus on the important thing?" he whimpered.

"The prisoners?"

"Me! I am the important thing!"

"Oh, right. Yeah."

/-/

Ilia crept out the building with her findings in hand and a smug smile on her face. Easiest job ever. The office had a pretty good security system, but she'd been able to bypass it all by knocking out the security and stealing his access. After that, it'd just been a case of finding the records room and the accounts under the company they were raiding.

Lo and behold, the NDAs were included, some of them looking more than a little circumspect. If nothing else, she sheer amount of them would raise eyebrows. You didn't smack that many people with them if you weren't trying to hide something. Sneaking out, she stopped by the cupboard she'd stashed the security guard in. He was awake and terrified but confused when she tossed his cards and scroll back to him.

"You're not losing your life tonight," she said, speaking from behind her mask. "The White Fang is changing, even if you won't believe it. Check the news tomorrow to see."

Leaving soon after, she ducked into an alleyway where she'd stashed a spare outfit and after a quick check to make sure no one was watching, removed her mask and pulled on a fresh set of clothes. Job done, and without a single drop of blood. Jaune would be pleased.

Her scroll rang. Ilia answered it, "Ilia here."

"_Ilia!"_ Deery sounded tense. _"You have a steady hand, right?"_

"Uh. Yeah. Why?"

"_Steady enough to pull a bullet out of someone with a pair of tweezers?"_

Ilia stared down at her scroll. A long sigh escaped her. "What the hell happened to you lot?"

"_It's been a long night, okay?"_

"It was a clothing company. They make T-shirts. How are you injured? Did someone slip into a sewing machine? Is this what I'm dealing with…?"

"_A really long night! Just get here before the boss bleeds out."_

Swearing, Ilia raced away.

/-/

"Excellent work. You've been shot. Really, I'm impressed."

Jaune looked around tiredly. "Adam?"

"Calling me by name for once? That's new." Sighing, the masked man stepped into his vision. "You're an idiot. I despise your very existence. I despise you. But," he said, shaking his head, "The White Fang needs you in one piece. I can't believe I'm saying that. It's depressing to even think it."

"I… I got shot. I actually got shot…"

"By some stupid CEO, too. Not even a huntsman."

"Shut up," he said. "You got killed by a nobody."

"True. And I'll never live that down. Or this." Adam looked around with a scowl. "It doesn't matter. Don't think this makes us allies. Definitely don't think it makes us friends or anything else like that. I'd see you dead if I could, but right now, right here, the White Fang doesn't need that."

Jaune felt exhausted. Heavy. "What are you talking about?"

"_For it is through sacrifice that we will reclaim what is ours. Through darkness, we seek the path to a brighter future. Betrayed by society and left to die, I release your soul, and by your side, walk with thee."_

Something hot rushed through him. The darkness swirled out.

* * *

**Welp. You got shot, Jaune. Well done. On the weirdness of a company owner having a gun, I kind of just assume that since the canon characters walk around armed all the time (and because this world literally has monsters in it) that you're allowed to carry a weapon. I'm not making a gun control statement here. Just saying.**

**And yes, the fact Adam can unlock Jaune's aura is a sign he's more than just a figment of his imagination, if that wasn't obvious already.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 28****th**** January**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	7. Chapter 7

**Nice to see someone caught the business cat reference last chapter. Now **_**that's**_** an old one. I was surprised it got noticed. Jaune has indeed just got back from a conference lol.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 7**

* * *

"I know a place."

Coming from Perry, those words didn't inspire much confidence but their leader bleeding out on the floor of the van didn't do much for that either. With the hospitals out and many of the White Fang from outside the city having no connections to rely on, leaving it in the local's hands became the only option. The van tore down the road under his control, casually breaking several speeding and traffic laws. Given the police presence rushing to the factory they'd just vacated, it went unnoticed.

The van pulled into a closed off parking lot and the team filtered out, masks still on. Deery took one look at the sign above the door, rounded on Perry and grabbed him by the collar. "A vet!?" she hissed. "You've brought us to a veterinarian?"

"All animals are the same on the inside, right?"

"Wow, Perry. Wow." Yuma walked by carrying Jaune between him and Trifa. "I'd expect that from a human but hearing a faunus say it is just shit."

"I didn't mean like that! Come on, guys. If you can sew up a dog's wound you can sew up a person's wound. Hell, it's probably harder with smaller animals because of how much worse the blood loss is. I wasn't saying we deserve to be treated at vets or something." Perry chased after them. "Guys?"

Bane hammered on the door and a man came to answer it after a few minutes, grumbling loudly. He had thick, bushy hair a shade of auburn and brown bear ears, rounded, poking above them. The faunus was big, though that was relative and he looked like a puppy before Bane. His mouth fell open and he made to scream.

"Hi boss," Perry called.

"Perry? Perry, is that you? Oh for…" The vet ushered them inside and closed the door. He then grabbed Perry by the neck, something no one made any effort to stop. "You're with the White Fang? I should beat you black and blue, boy. And bringing your people here. What are – Is he bleeding? Oh, for the love of…" He shook Perry harder. "Are you trying to get me arrested!?"

"Um. Sorry? We kinda had no choice," Perry stammered. "No medical knowledge."

"We don't want any trouble, sir," Deery said. "We're not here to hurt you or cause any issue and we'll be gone if you can just look at our friend. We're willing to pay for the service."

"And how would I explain _that_ payment to the tax office? No, no. Come on. Put him down on the table. It's solid enough to hold a donkey, so it should be fine for him." The faunus went and pulled on some gloves and a white coat while Trifa and Yuma settled their unconscious leader down. "I'll deal with you later, Perry, and you _will_ be explaining what brought this insanity on. Now what happened? What am I looking at here?"

"Gunshot wound," Trifa said. "Shoulder."

"Hm. Sadly, I have all too much experience with that. Some sick and twisted people out there who'd shoot at animals. Some not even wild or stray." The vet shook his head and pulled out some cloth, distilled water and a basin. "Right. We'll work on sealing the wound up and preventing further blood loss. It's not such a big deal to leave the bullet inside if it isn't infected."

"We took the bullet out," Ilia said.

The vet paused. "You what…?"

"I took it out. Used a pair of tweezers and got it out on the way over."

The faunus stared at her like she'd just confessed to shitting out the moon and stars. He pushed his tongue around the inside of his mouth, lashing over his teeth and making his cheeks stick out. He closed his eyes, gripped the table and took a deep breath.

"And why," he said, "Did you think that was a good idea?"

Ilia quailed.

"Yeah, Ilia," Perry said. "Why did you think- OW!"

"Deery told me to!" Ilia hissed, rubbing her sore fist and glaring at a downed and stunned Perry.

Deery flinched. "I saw it on a movie."

"Deery!"

"What?" she wailed. "You're the full-time terrorists! Perry and I are just volunteers. Why are you taking medical advice from us? Why don't _you_ know how to deal with gunshot wounds since you get shot at all the time?"

"W–Well, aura…"

"That's no excuse!"

The vet ignored them and hurried to his patient, growling about movies and idiots under his breath. "Hold him down," he said to Bane. "If he wakes up, I don't want him pulling away and making me tear something. The rest of you, if you can't be quiet then wait outside. You're nothing but a distraction here."

"Do you need help?" Trifa asked.

"Do I need help from people who would dick around in a gunshot wound with a pair of tweezers?" he asked sarcastically. "No, I think I'll be fine without that. Fucking hell. What did I do to deserve this shit? I've dedicated my life to looking after household pets…"

Everyone but Bane filtered out into the lobby, taking the numerous waiting seats for customers. The room was dimly lit but clean and friendly, with pictures of happy animals to sooth the mood and a rack of healthy and wheat-free bags of pet food. Above it, a sign asked whether you'd had your pet vaccinated, while another went on to discuss the various weight averages for dogs of different sizes. Perry slipped behind the main counter and unlocked a door with the experience of someone used to it, then came back with bottles of water for each of them.

After a long job, they unscrewed and drank of them greedily.

"So," Yuma said once he was done, "I'm taking it you work here then? When you're not wearing the mask."

"I'm a trainee," Perry said. "That's why I don't have any real medical knowledge yet. I'm going into vet school. Or I was. I missed out on this year because the board wouldn't grant a bursary for the tuition. I thought it was an error because I did well on the exams, but when I went in to question it the man in charge basically said it was because I was a faunus. Not flat out; he made some snide comment on animals treating animals and left it at that."

"That why you joined?"

"I was angry," Perry admitted. "I've wanted to be a vet all my life. Honestly, I'm lucky the old man keeps me on. I think he went through it himself."

"What's it like being a vet?" Ilia asked, more to keep the conversation going than any real interest. They were all panicky about their leader. "You get to play with a lot of animals, right? That must be fun."

"Ha. You'd think so. Most come here hurt and it's satisfying when you can help them and see their owners so relieved – people really love their pets. There are bad times too. Vale is a big place so no matter how good a job we do, we end up having to put an animal down almost every day. We just get that many customers. You can only watch some grown man or woman sobbing as they hold onto a companion they've had for ten or fifteen years so many times before it hits you."

Tukson reached over to rub his shoulder.

The conversation dwindled after that; each lost to their thoughts as they listened to the muffled voices in the other room, where the vet was operating on their leader. Perry's story wasn't a new one, sad as that sounded.

Most anyone who joined the White Fang did so because something had affected them in the past. People called them insane faunus – often using terms like rabid to drive home the `animal` angle – but the simple fact was a person wouldn't risk their life for no good reason. You needed something big enough to drive a person to action.

Sienna called it the `inciting incident` which came from book writing. Adam called it your bad day – saying it only took one bad day to make a faunus take up the mask, and that how bad your day had to be varied from faunus to faunus. There was always a limit, though. Even the most passive and kind-hearted old lady could be driven to the mask given enough motivation.

Few talked about their bad day. It was a given that you didn't ask.

"You think I should send all this to Lisa?" Ilia asked, hoisting her documents.

"It's what the boss would want," Trifa said. "Make sure to put it all online as well. That way the news agencies can't bury it."

/-/

_White Fang expose abusive workplace. CEO and Board arrested._

Blake was many things. Conflicted was one of those things, and a rather huge part of her current problem sat before Yang's scroll propped up on its side in their dorm, listening a smug Lisa Lavender listing off crimes against both faunus _and_ humans that the company had perpetrated, and the White Fang's intervention and exposing of it.

There were, or at least the news reported, no deaths. No violence, no killing and no bombs. The factory was still in one piece and the people working there would keep their jobs, which would hopefully become better under new management. It was by all accounts a perfect solution to a terrible problem.

"Well," Yang said. "That's a thing. I bought gym clothes from them!"

"Yang!" Ruby gasped.

"What? It's not like they came with `made from the blood of our employees` written on them. It was a local company. I thought they'd be good. Geez. Goes to show how well the laws work. And here I thought it was just your business that had the bad rep, Weiss."

"Hmph. The SDC hardly has a monopoly on questionable practices."

That was putting it lightly. Relations on the team had been… strained since Ruby revealed her faunus nature. It wasn't Ruby's fault, she had to remind herself. Once that got out, questions of why she wanted to hide it emerged, followed by the recognition of her name. Weiss was apparently taught to recognise the leaders of a terrorist faction out for her head. Who knew?

A confession this early wasn't what Blake had been looking for, but considering all the teachers knew of her past, keeping it secret hadn't been an option. Yang and Ruby took it well. Weiss. Well, she was frosty but they were still a team. That was probably more than she could have expected.

_And it's all his fault. He ruined everything._

"What do you think, Blake? Must be nice to see your old crew doing good for a change."

"Good?" Blake hissed at Yang. "They broke into a factory and… and…"

"Killed no one," Weiss pointed out. The fact that _she_ of all people would defend the White Fang's actions made it even worse. "They exposed malpractice and closed down a corrupt leadership that was abusing both humans and faunus. Even I can't fault that."

"They could have done it legally…"

"I'll admit that's true. Still, it's better than I'd have expected."

"It's a ruse," she argued. "They're planning something and this is just a distraction." Blake glared at the picture of Jaune Arc on the screen. "That _murderer_ is trying to make people drop their guard so he can strike. Don't fall for it."

"Uh. I don't think anyone here is saying we want to marry him or anything." Yang laughed nervously, edging away from Blake. "And just because we say it's a good thing he did this doesn't mean we think he's a good guy."

"Obviously," Weiss agreed. "He's still a criminal." She cocked her head to the side. "You're taking this awfully personal, Belladonna." Her lips curled up. "Is this because he cross-dresses as you in his spare time?"

Ruby and Yang's snickers didn't help.

It wasn't. That he'd do something so weird made him a creep and had been embarrassing at the time, but she'd gone straight to Ozpin the second Ruby told her and made sure he knew. There were witnesses who knew she'd stayed in Beacon, so any crimes he did dressed as her wouldn't stick. Thankfully, no one had wanted posters with her face around Vale. Still, that wasn't the issue, not that she could admit what it was. He killed Adam.

_I hated what he'd become but I didn't want him to die…_

"I just think we shouldn't let our guards down around him because he's done one good thing. He's up to no good – why else would they have stolen all that dust before?"

"Well yeah, obviously. They're terrorists…"

Blake punched the carpet. "We need to stop them."

Ruby looked nervous. "We?"

"Is that the royal we?" Weiss asked. "Because I don't remember volunteering."

"We have to do something!"

"Why?" Yang asked. "Why do _we_ have to do something when Beacon, the huntsmen and the police are doing their own thing? Why does it fall to us four to act? It doesn't. Come on, partner. I know you're invested in this but let's let everyone else handle this, okay?"

Blake gripped her hands into tight fists. Weren't they huntresses? Didn't they want to protect people? "There are more dangerous people than Grimm," she seethed. "Adam was one of them, and _this man_ killed Adam in cold blood. You can all sit back and assume nothing will happen if you like. I'm not going to do the same."

"Blake!"

"Let her go," Weiss said, watching Blake storm out.

"Is that a good idea?" Ruby wondered. "What if she gets into trouble?"

"Really. What are the chances she can find the White Fang, let alone that she'll be so stupid as to challenge them directly? She'll storm around town for a bit, get hungry and come back for a tuna sandwich. Mark my words."

"You're awfully easy-going abut this," Yang said. "I'd have thought you'd be up in arms about the White Fang being active here."

"I normally would be, but for once they're focusing on another company. And like I said, they weren't wrong this time. Those people deserved to get arrested. I'm not saying I trust him and I'd happily see him arrested and locked away, but I don't see the point in going out and making myself a target."

"What about you, Ruby? You met the guy. What impression did he make on you?"

Ruby ducked her head. "I thought it was Blake…"

"So, you ran into Roman Torchwick and now Jaune Arc. That's two for two on the most wanted criminals in Vale. Good job, sis. Only you could talk to both, arrest neither and somehow get away with it."

"Yaaang!"

/-/

"Fine form today, Lisa," her cameraman said, shutting off the machine as she stepped off the stage with her lit desk and backdrop. The casters and the support crew were normally separated by status and pay, but he was her personal cameraman and had no qualms getting into the thick of the action, which earned him a higher bonus and her respect. "I'd almost say you were having fun."

"What can I say? I have a thing for big news."

"Word is the higher ups aren't pleased. Not at us," he added, "But at losing a big client. They sponsored the six and eight o'clock news, not to mention the ad runs they took. Absolutely fuming, I hear."

"And yet they'll still approve me ripping said customer apart on air."

"Blood in the water, Lisa. You know how it is."

Oh, she did. The station would staunchly defend its interests in the face of truth, integrity and all those silly little notions, but once the news was out and it became clear the client was sinking, they'd jump ship. And if the client was already going down? Well, might as well profit by covering its descent and making sure your former allies were crushed so badly, they could never come back to challenge you. Typical.

It happened with everything. Politicians, businessmen, sponsors and celebs. The media could make powerful allies while you were strong but show a hint of weakness and they'd tear you to shreds. She'd been at the heart of a few of those cases as the station's most popular presenter.

"It wasn't always like this…"

"It wasn't," he agreed. "Remember the good times? Me, you and charging across the city to cover a big story? Hard-hitting journalism. Uncovering the truth. We won awards. We were feared by those with secrets to hide!"

Lisa smiled fondly. "I remember you being a lot slimmer, that's for sure."

"Being stuck in the studio hasn't helped me there." He slapped his belly.

"I do remember them. I miss them." Lisa lowered her voice. "And I hate this…"

"Trust me, I can tell. Times change. No one wants real news anymore. They'll say they do and call us corrupt but put _real news_ on and no one watches it."

Sad as it was to admit, he wasn't wrong. People wanted scandal. Drama. Oh, they'd say they didn't and rant about how the media wasn't what it used to be, but they were all hypocrites in the end. Real news was often boring, because how often could you have huge, dramatic stories? If it were possible to go back to that, they would have already. She wasn't the only one lamenting the stupid gossips they'd become, but the simple fact was that those that tried, failed.

The public might pretend they wanted the truth, but even when that was offered, they stuck to the lies. News was, at the end of the day, a business. People had to be paid and the bottom line mattered. They'd even done a gather round asking readers to pay just one lien a month to support them. Barely any did. People couldn't spare the price of a chocolate bar for the `real news` they so loudly clamoured for, but they'd spend _hours_ online whining about it.

In the end, they'd sold their souls to businesses.

How could they not? It was that or die. They had jobs, careers, mortgages and family, and no amount of journalistic integrity kept the bills away. Let the public hate them for it. If they weren't going to do anything to help, why should their opinions matter? By now, she was used to the scorn. Used to hiding not only her reaction to their hate, but also the self-hate she felt deep inside. The recrimination her younger self, thirsty for success and truth, would offer. Now, she thought she might be able to look in the mirror and feel proud.

_This was the first real news story I landed in years._

The stupid little things didn't count. The celebrity gossip and the sanctioned releases. This was the first case she'd been personally involved in and brought to the public, and even if she wouldn't be recognised for her part in it, the fact it happened sent tingles down her spine.

It'd been a long time since she felt so alive. So real.

_Better than drink. Better than sex._ Every nerve in her body hummed, and the danger of the higher-ups finding out only made it better. Those fossils had no idea what she'd done, nor would they find out if she played her cards right. _Is this what I've been missing? How can I ever go back to regurgitating sponsor messages now?_

The thrill of the chase. The investigation. The payoff. Lisa shivered. This was what she'd trained for. This was what she'd worked for, dreamed of, longed to be. Not some pretty face showing cleavage for sweaty old men, but a real investigative reporter. It felt good. Incredible.

Too good to leave it just there.

"If you'll excuse me, I have a call to make."

/-/

"What do you think?"

"What do I think?" Qrow repeated. "About what, the horrible work conditions, the fact the White Fang did the city's work for it or how you'd bring a mug of coffee to a literal crime scene? One of those is stranger than the others and I'm disappointed at which it is."

Ozpin sipped from said mug without comment while Glynda interviewed a member of staff behind them. Police cordons were everywhere and forensics teams were digging through the office for any clues. Particular attention was on the blood splatter where, according to one of the arrested, the leader of the White Fang had been shot and wounded.

"I think this place is a shithole," Qrow said. "Much as they're crooks, the Fang did a good thing exposing them. As for the blood, I'm not sure what happened there. Maybe he got into a fight before and was low on aura."

"Seems unlikely, doesn't it?"

"Yeah. I mean, this isn't a big operation for them so if he was low aura, why bother coming? He could send one or two of his people and they'd have been enough to secure the place." They couldn't fight off huntsmen, but they wouldn't have had to. Literal civilians. A single trained White Fang operative with aura could take this building, so why come if your aura was low to the point of you being wounded?

"Almost like he intended to be," Ozpin said.

"You think he got shot on purpose?"

"Perhaps. The news is out and some are already wishing him a speedy recovery online…"

"Sympathy vote," Qrow realised. "That's… I'd call it clever, but getting shot? That's a bit much even if they have good doctors. People were going to look well on this whatever the case. Whole place was run by creeps. Some of the things I heard the news mention was enough to have my skin crawling."

"Mine as well," the headmaster admitted. "Ever do those in power abuse it. I shall be pushing the Council for the harshest punishments and new laws to prevent this happening again. They've always dug their heels in at that in the past."

"Why?"

"Because most politicians are businessmen, Qrow. Or take payments from them."

"Bribery?"

"Come now. I'm sure they're charitable donations. Or lobbying. Certainly not bribes." Ozpin rolled his eyes as he said it. "Either way, the White Fang have given me a good opportunity to push the issue home. If they refuse now, the White Fang will use them as examples of corruption in the city. They may even target them directly."

Couldn't happen to better people. Or not. Sometimes it was tough being a huntsman; your job was to protect everyone, even if some really didn't deserve it. _A single good deed doesn't make up for a lifetime of bad. _If this was the old White Fang, he'd have applaud it was, the action made him nervous.

"You think we should check hospitals just in case?"

"It's a long shot to assume they wouldn't have a healer, but you're probably right," Ozpin said. "We'll only looks fools if we don't and Jaune Arc actually _does_ go to a hospital. I'll be sure to have them look out for young women of similar height as well."

A nearby police officer snorted. "Should check the veterinarians as well."

Qrow grabbed the man by the arm. "What was that?"

"Ah. Uh." The man paled in the face of Qrow's anger. "I was just sayin' to check the vets as well. You know, cuz they're animals." He shrunk back as the huntsman's teeth began to grind together, fingers tightening around his arm.

"Qrow," Ozpin warned. "Let him go."

It took a force of effort to do so.

"And you, good sir, should think twice about what you say," Ozpin remarked. "Treat faunus like that and you're more a problem than the White Fang themselves."

"Pft." The officer rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Shithead," Qrow snapped. "People like that didn't exist and we wouldn't be in this situation."

"I agree but there's little we can do now. I doubt we'll find anything here; the case seems clear cut."

It was. Entry had been found, a captured and tied up security guard corroborated and the White Fang left with the only damage being to a desk and themselves. The forensics were going over the blood, but it was pointless. They were only going to find that it absolutely was Jaune Arc's; something they all knew. Sadly, knowing that didn't save the police from having to do it anyway _just in case_ it wasn't. Taxpayer money wasted.

"Do you think this marks a change in their strategy?" Qrow asked Ozpin.

"Their goals will remain the same as they always have and exposing corruption does help legitimise them. I'm afraid that's all it may be. That they're aiding humans as well as faunus is a good sign, but only indicates they're trying to bolster their reputation. Recruitment, perhaps. People are much more likely to sign up for an organisation seen to right wrongs than they are terrorists."

"It's clever," Qrow had to admit. "In one move, they expose us, bolster their reputation and turn all attention off their crimes and onto this. People are going to be tearing their hair out over this abuse case so much that they'll never notice what the White Fang gets up to on the side."

"Indeed. That's why I need you on top of your game. They're planning something." Ozpin's eyes narrowed. "Planning something big. I can feel it."

/-/

Sienna found herself in a peculiar position.

The Albain brothers were happy. Ecstatic even. Given their opinions against her and what they'd once held for Adam, that would have been cause for concern at any other time. She kept her eyes on them whenever she could, knowing they couldn't be trusted.

It was rare to find them pleased with her actions. Suspiciously so.

"Genius manoeuvre," Corsac waxed. "By posturing in a way that shows us as saviours of faunus and human alike, we give an image of misunderstood heroes. This is marvellous, Sienna. You've outdone yourself."

"Traffic to boards sympathetic to our cause has doubled," Fennec said. "Interest in joining our cause in Vale seems to be at an all-time high. We've been unable to tell them how to do so, but that's understandable. Your protégé has only just taken over and the Vale branch was rooted out not too long ago." He tapped his scroll shut. "That said, I'd really advise pushing him to accept new recruits soon. We must ride this wave of good fortune."

"Something we're sure is already in the works," Corsac said. "Why else do this? It's the perfect set up to rebound the White Fang branch back to its former glory. Why, I doubt even Adam could elicit such a positive response."

"You've outdone yourself, Sienna. I'll admit I had my doubts, but this answers all of them."

A most peculiar position indeed.

Sienna crossed one leg over her knee, fighting for a few seconds time for thought. Technically speaking, all success by the White Fang was hers as leader, and since she had Ilia in Vale, she did have a hand in matters there. On the other hand, helping humans appeased her little. Long-term success or not, they were aiding the enemy.

_I suppose some faunus may have worked there as well. I shall have to confirm with Ilia._

For now, she could do little but consider it a success. Even if it rankled to do so and she would have preferred they kill the CEO while they had him – such an execution would surely have worked better, no? – she couldn't say that. Do so and she'd make it clear her thoughts did not align with Adam's replacement. Just as the White Fang needed to ride this success, so too did she.

"I'm glad to see you approve. Jaune is doing well for being so new to the role."

"Adam left large shoes to fill," Corsac agreed, "But he's doing well. Killing Adam still has many of our recruits uneasy, and some furious, but they're a minority."

"Adam's appeal was only ever in his success," Fennec said.

Sienna knew that. It was hard not to. You couldn't share the same breathing space with Adam without realising personality wasn't his strongest point. Hell, it wasn't even his weakest. It was just repulsive in general. She still couldn't believe that girl was willing to be with him, let alone share his bed. _Takes all types. No wonder she went and turned traitor. I would too if the alternative was having to listen to him prattle on about human this and human that._

Not that she could be forgiven for abandoning the cause. Hm. That was something to consider. Jaune would be recruiting soon once she gave him his orders and he'd need to ensure none left. Making an example of the runaway would be both a good test of his loyalty and a way to keep the new recruits in line.

"Will you be speaking with Jaune soon, Sienna?"

"Of course. I'm waiting for Ilia to contact back. She has reported already, but he took a small wound in the combat and is healing. I told her to pass along my congratulations and to make contact at his convenience."

"Marvellous. You _will_ push for him to recruit, no?"

"I will." Really, did they think her an idiot? She'd been running the White Fang long enough. "They will need to secure a new base, however. Ilia tells me they are hiding in the sewers and that will impress no one. I was going to try and wire some funds to them but it may be difficult…"

Corsac and Fennec exchanged long looks. Corsac nodded before turning back to her. "We may be able to help with that. We have a contact within the city. One who is sympathetic to our cause and has resources he might offer."

Sienna's eyes darkened. Such was convenient, but that she did not know of it was not. How far had the two planned without her knowledge? Revealing it now implied their faith in her was restored, but the fact it had wandered in the first place was cause for concern. It meant it might wander again if they doubted her. Or if they thought someone else might make a suitable replacement.

Someone like Jaune Arc.

_He was ambitious enough to kill Adam and take his place. Why stop there? Once he's secured his place in Vale and won the hearts and minds of my people, why not take my head as well?_ Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair, feigning interest as the Albain brothers laid out their plan.

If he thought to take her position, he would be sorely mistaken.

Sienna Khan would not go down so easily.

/-/

Jaune woke up with a gasp.

"Boss is awake!" Perry yelled, rushing over only to be swarmed by the others. Numerous faces pushed into his view, none of them masked but all too close to comfort. Groaning, he tried to bring a hand up to cover his face but his shoulder hurt too much.

"Boss, are you still there?" Trifa asked. "What's the last thing you remember."

"I… I spoke to a dead man…"

Trifa and Ilia exchanged worried glances. "You… uh… what?"

"I… There's a dead man in my head. I'm being haunted. I… I think I need an exorcist."

"Near death experience?" Ilia asked Trifa. "You didn't walk into the light, did you?"

Still out of it, he shook his head.

"Good. Don't walk into that light and don't listen to anyone who claims to be from the afterlife. We need you here."

"No," he mumbled. "You don't understand."

"I know, boss. I know. You got shot and nearly died, but you're okay now. You're not going to that big farm in the sky yet." Ilia fluffed the cushion his head was resting on and smiled. "You're safe. And our job worked. We're all over the news."

"They're not even calling us monsters," Deery said. "Well, most aren't."

"Eh. Some of those stations always cater to anti-faunus sentiment. Ignore those ones. We could literally kill every Grimm on the plant and it'd be viewed as a bad thing. The important part is that the _good news stations_ are… well, not singing our praises, but cautiously admitting we exposed a corrupt company."

Did they not care about Adam? Jaune couldn't help but think the dead man gallivanting around in his head was a problem. Cautiously, he called out mentally. _"Adam…?"_

Silence. Or not; Deery was going on about how good it was for him to be okay. No response from Adam or some other mental voice in his head. Had he imagined it? Maybe he had. _If someone unlocked my aura, I might have heard it while I was dreaming of Adam and imposed their words over his._ Yeah, that made sense. Sort of.

"A-Are we safe?" he asked.

"Safe enough. Old friend of Perry's from beyond the mask. He stitched you up. Said that without your aura, you might have died."

"Yeah." He laid back. "Who unlocked my aura anyway? You, Ilia?"

"Eh? No. Not me. I thought it was Trifa."

"I didn't do it."

"Deery?"

"Not me."

Bane shook his head while the others also signed in the negative. Jaune took them in one by one, panic rising as no one took credit for unlocking his aura. Aura which had, by all accounts, kept him alive.

"Guess it was no one," Ilia said. "That's odd. Huh, boss? Are you oka-"

Jaune's has already passed out.

/-/

"Back so soon?" Adam snarked, stood with a smug grin and arms crossed. "So, go on. I've been curious to see what you'll say. Apologies? Denial? What will it be this time? I've been dreaming of the moment you get down on your knees and-"

Jaune planted his feet and stuck both hands out in a cross shape. "Begone, spirit. The power of the brothers compels you!"

"Okay." Adam sighed. "Not what I was expecting. Though looking back, I should have. You _are_ an idiot after all. You realise I'm not-"

"Your soul is released! Go now to the afterlife; your work is done."

"I'm trying to-"

"I warn you, ghost. Don't mess with me. I have the power of X-Ray and Vav on my side!"

"Arc-"

"I'll buy holy water. I swear it. I can buy it in bulk online!"

"You live in a sewer. Where would you have it delivered?"

"..."

"How long are you going to keep this up?"

"I banish thee! I release you! Be free! Your kind is not welcome here! Go now and never return!"

Adam sighed and made a show of sitting down in the air, crossing his legs and just hovering there, chin resting on one hand. The spirit of a dead man looked remarkably bored with it all, watching as Jaune ran through what religious verses he knew.

"I'll just sit down and wait for you to finish, shall I?"

* * *

"**Sienna Khan would not go down so easily."**

**Adam stabs through chest once. Urk. Dead. Yeah, you didn't exactly have the best showing in canon, Sienna. **

**On the religion at the end, I know RWBY says there isn't much, but I'm sure that even when they said that they showed literal temples. I'm assuming Remnant has no dominant religions but probably has some little ones that persist in certain areas. That's obviously why Jaune has no idea what he's doing, because he only knows "of" them.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 11****th**** February**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	8. Chapter 8

**Here we go. For those that didn't get any email yesterday, Null **_**was**_** updated. I just did it and Arcanum at the same time due to losing internet at home on Sunday, and I think the site doesn't like two at once and only send out alerts for one of the stories.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Deery found Jaune down in the sewer reading a book on exorcisms. He was sat in a small ring of scented candles, the tang of chamomile thick in the air. He was also dressed in a black robe with a white collar, which she would have questioned if he wasn't a) her boss and b) chanting like he was about to summon an eldritch horror.

"Um. Boss?"

The chanting stopped. Jaune looked back. There was a white symbol drawn on his forehead. He watched her watching him and said, "I'm not insane."

"Okay? I… I didn't think you were?"

"I don't hear voices in my head."

"I…"

"I don't have a madman in my skull telling me to kill humans, burn down buildings and sleep with cat faunus."

"That last one was oddly specific…"

"But not relevant," he pressed, "Because I don't have any of those things."

Deery said the only thing she could. "Yes. That is obvious."

"Good." Standing, he brushed some flecks of candle off his clothing and stepped out the ring of salt he'd been kneeling within. The book was tossed away. "So. What's up? Did you need me for something?"

"We kind of have a visitor…"

"Police? Huntsmen?"

"Worse," Deery lamented. "Paparazzi."

"I'm not a photographer!" Lisa Lavender protested, pushing through the tunnel and into his chamber on two-inch long heels. He wouldn't have called it the prime way to make your way through a sewer and judging by the look on her face she'd realised that. "And I've spent the last two hours trudging through filth to get here."

"How do you even know where _here_ is?" Jaune asked. "You were unconscious when we brought you here." He blinked and then sighed. "Did you really just wander aimlessly around the sewers hoping you'd bump into us?"

"No," Lisa lied.

"Bane found her wandering the sewers aimlessly," Deery chimed, earning a heated glare from the woman. "Took pity on her. Also, she's seen us all without masks now so… yeah. You may want to Adam her."

"Adam me?"

"I'm not killing her," Jaune said.

"Yes. Yes, I like this decision. Don't Adam me."

"And that's not a verb!"

"You don't need to Adam me anyway," Lisa said quickly. "Because I am now officially on your side!"

Jaune stared long and hard at the woman before saying, "I hope not. For your sake…"

"Well, not _officially_, no. That would be a terrible decision on my part. Unofficially."

"You want to join the White Fang?" Deery asked.

"No." Lisa swept in and strode toward him, lips curling up. "I've no interest in the White Fang or becoming some terrorist. What I want is to follow _you-_" She poked his chest. "-to whatever end you seek. I wish to join Jaune Arc, not the White Fang."

"They're kind of the same thing…"

"Silly girl. They're really not." Turning, she shot Deery a patronising smile. "The White Fang is a terrorist group that murders humans and doesn't do much to advance the cause of the faunus while doing so. It's an angry scout club for wronged children. This," she gestured to the sewer, "is a movement. It is history. It is a story in the making. It is change incarnate, and I shall be damned if I miss out on the biggest scoop of this decade."

"So, you're doing this for a story. That's a little pathetic…"

"Is it? I'd say extreme belief is more frightening. I'm less likely to burn someone's house down and murder their children. I'm also much more rational than someone like Adam Taurus could ever have been."

"Because that's setting the bar high," Deery muttered.

"And I bring a lot to the table," Lisa said, more to him than the other faunus. "I'm placed in the media; I have access to information ahead of time and I can monitor and control your presence as it's delivered to the masses."

All of which were good things; he didn't need to be an insurrectionist to see that. There was no question of whether he was going to accept her help or not – she knew where they were now, so he was pretty much hands tied. Even if he wasn't, it'd be a fool who said no. Adam probably would have. And killed her just for the sake of it. No one ever accused Adam of being smart, though.

If Lisa could help push out the message that he wasn't evil, people would start to believe it. Hopefully, anyway. It might not be immediate but even a single voice was better than none. If she could be trusted, that was.

"I thought you only acted against those manufacturers for vengeance…"

"I did." Lisa admitted it easily, but with a hint of sorrow. "I wanted to see them brought down more for what they did to me than what they were doing to other people. Don't get me wrong, it was terrible, but a career woman has to look out for herself."

"What changed? Helping me can't be the right career move. You'll get a big story, I know." He said it before she could interrupt. Not only would she get _the_ big story but she'd technically be first on scene to everything they did, knowing about it in advance. It was a guarantee of her getting the scoop on any and all White Fang action. "You could have just acted as a mole for the same, though. Coming down here and pledging your loyalty could get you arrested." The only thing that made sense was that she wanted something else. "You want more than a story."

"Hm. You're perceptive. I normally hate that in men." She winked at him. "Here, though, it just makes me even more excited. You're right. I did this for revenge and I felt satisfaction when they were taken down, but there was something more as well. Something new." Her hands gripped her arms and she shivered. "I felt a thrill. Something hot and cold burning inside me. It was like I was watching something incredible, seeing history unfold before my eyes."

"It was just us busting a crooked CEO…"

"It was more than that!" she insisted. "This, it, Vale has been corrupt for a long time. Not horribly, I admit, but it's always been the case that the powerful get away with whatever they want while the poor suffer. The faunus typically fall into the latter, what with the discrimination. I don't know how to explain it. I've lived as a journalist since I graduated. I dreamed of being at the front of the action, revealing the truth as a huge story unfolds. When I reported your actions, I felt… I don't know what I felt. Excited. Bubbly. Fulfilled." He had the feeling she couldn't find the right words. Lisa shook her head. "I can't explain it, but I knew I couldn't just sit behind a desk and watch this go by. I _had_ to be a part of it."

"And she calls me the extremist," Deery sighed.

"I can provide targets," Lisa said excitedly. Hungrily. "There's a police captain who lives better than he can afford. Roman Torchwick keeps getting out of prison, as do several other influential mob bosses. The last reporter to look too closely was found dead."

Jaune hissed through his teeth.

"Discriminatory laws are being pushed against faunus by a councillor," she went on, eyes shining brightly. "That councillor owns a controlling share in an arms manufacturing company based in Atlas, who have the contract for Vale's security and police forces."

"Wait," Deery said, "How does that make sense with anti-faunus laws?"

"Because they make the White Fang angry," Jaune finished, stomach dropping. "If he gets them angry enough, they're more likely to recruit and get violent, which means Vale needs more and more weaponry to combat it, which means the White Fang needs more…"

Deery looked as sick as he felt. That company was not only profiting off the conflict but fuelling it to make sure they got more money. And the people who should have been dealing with it were apparently under the pay of criminals.

"Is there more?" he asked.

"There's always more. The news never stops – people just get tired of hearing it. They don't want to know about corrupt officials because there's nothing they can do about it. They want gossip and drama and feel-good stories."

"Burying their heads in the sand…"

"It's that, but also fatigue," Lisa explained. "How long do you think it takes to drag a politician through court? It's not days. It takes weeks, months, maybe even the better part of a year if they have their lawyers drag it out – and they will. Do you think the average person wants to read the same news story over three hundred times? They get bored. They demand new content. Suddenly, we're forced to turn away from that story and cover other things."

"Meaning people forget about what the person did and he gets away with it."

"It happens all the time and if we try to run a story after to say what happened, people are too tired about it to care. Some will say it's a shame and others argue that maybe this is proof they were innocent all along. And who takes the blame for that? We do. We get dragged out for writing puff pieces when we apparently _should_ have been covering a monumental case."

"Conveniently forgetting the fact that it's _them_ who wanted you to stop covering it in the first place."

Lisa nodded. Man, being a journalist sounded like a thankless job. He wondered why anyone bothered. Probably as Lisa said, that you thought it was about truth, justice and all that good stuff when you were younger. It was probably the same as how the police or military talked about honour, protecting the weak and all that, but where the actual job was probably ninety per cent paperwork or back-breaking training respectively. It wasn't to say those jobs didn't have those elements, but they were never quite open with the frequency of it.

"What makes you think I can change that?" he asked.

"You're new. You're exciting. You're fast-paced." Lisa rattled them off like a sales pitch. "It takes months for a court case to get anywhere, where you can evoke change in a night. Maybe a week at the longest. People eat that up."

"By breaking the law…"

"Do you think the average reader cares about that? Sure, _they_ wouldn't risk their freedom by doing so, but so long as bad people are exposed, they'll let you get away with it. The point is, people _want_ to read about you. Hell, they wanted to read about Adam too, but usually in the `he's a psycho` kind of way. You don't have that reputation. You did, but after saving those people and exposing those managers, you've got people confused. Now is the time to capitalise on that."

Maybe Lisa should be the one running the White Fang. She certainly had a lead on what they should be doing. Still, if people were starting to accept he wasn't a monster, he couldn't stop now. _It's working. If I keep this up, they'll warm up to the idea of me being a good guy._

The way out was ahead of him, and Lisa represented the best way to reach it. Even Deery was nodding, grudgingly agreeing with everything the older woman was saying. If so, then who was he to argue?

"I think we'd be happy to have you on board, Lisa. Will you need a mask?"

/-/

Lisa did, in fact, need a mask. Worse, she wanted to _attend_ their next raid. Jaune had thoughts about that but couldn't help but think her idea of videoing the whole thing had some merit. They'd need to carefully edit it to remove any mentions of names – she assured them she would both do so and let them see the product before it was aired – but Lisa explained that showing things from their perspective, especially if their actions were heroic, would catapult their popularity into the stratosphere.

He couldn't help but agree. It was a dangerous idea, sure, but if people could literally watch them saving lives and helping people, then great. It would only go to prove how things were changing under him. The comparison between the White Fang run by Adam and the White Fang run by him would be so stark that the public would _have_ to accept that he was the defining factor.

Jaune Arc was good. He was innocent. He was being falsely accused of his crimes.

The others had been quick to agree, their only real concerns being for their identities. He had a feeling Yuma and Trifa saw it more as a way to appeal to new recruits, but the others seemed genuinely on board with the idea of getting their message out there.

Ilia drew him aside after the meeting. Lisa and the White Fang were already chatting sans masks, getting on remarkably well for a human among faunus. It probably helped that she was leaning forward as she talked and Yuma's eyes were fixed well below her own.

"We need to talk," Ilia whispered. "Outside."

"Is there a problem?" he asked, following.

"Not with me. Sienna wants to talk with you."

"Who?"

"Sienna Khan." She said the name like he ought to know it. "Leader of the White Fang? Your boss?"

"Oh, _that_ Sienna!" He laughed nervously, writing it off like he'd mistaken her for Sienna the baker down the street who made the best pop tarts. "She's here? No, she can't be." He'd be in trouble if so. "Is it a scroll call?"

Ilia nodded and brought him into another chamber. It was a fair distance away from the one with the others and had a ceiling far, far above. There was a metal grate there which flickered as cars went by overhead. They were under a major road, far enough down as to have no chance of being heard with the traffic above. In the centre of the room stood a rather large and ramshackle contraption. There was an antenna pointed up toward the entrance, a screen on one side and a muffled set of speakers above that.

"Is that a CCT?"

"It's a prototype stolen from Atlas," she explained, fiddling with some dials. "We were looking for military hardware and found this. We were disappointed at first, but long-distance communication that bypasses the CCT turned out to be worth a lot more than tanks or guns."

He could imagine. There was that old saying that information was power and you couldn't boost a signal beyond the city limits without going to the CCT Tower, which he recalled was near Beacon. Even if you went to a smaller call centre in the city to do so, all the information ran through the CCT itself. The authorities could probably go through or intercept it if they had reason to.

_This is probably the most valuable asset we have. How did they smuggle this into the city? Did they bring it in pieces and build it down here?_ If so, that was impressive. Jaune swallowed and adjusted his collar as Ilia worked, half wondering if he should have brought his mask and then deciding that might send the wrong message to his apparent boss.

What did he do if she asked him if he was a faunus? Well, lie, obviously, but what did he claim to be? What if she wanted him to do something terrible? What if she was angry at him saving those people and wanted to punish him?

Too many questions. Not enough answers.

A whirring sound came from the device and its antenna moved a little, re-aligning automatically as Ilia stepped back and motion for him to take the spot before the monitor. There must have been a camera there to show his image. Swallowing, he moved forward, linking both hands behind his back in what he hoped was a confident pose.

The screen flickered. The image was grainy but the antenna continued to shift on its own and the picture became clearer. A woman sat on a wooden chair before him. Dark skin, darker lines like stripes across her bare arms. The flowing robes gave her an exotic air, though her skin and stripes would have done that even without it. She was beautiful, he couldn't help but think. Confident, powerful and dangerous.

Much too dangerous for him to want to be close to.

"_Jaune Arc."_

"Miss Sienna."

Ilia choked and the woman on the screen raised a single eyebrow, leaning her cheek down onto one hand, elbow on the armrest of her chair. _"Miss? I've never been called that before."_ Chuckling, she said, _"You may call me Sienna. Also, look down a little. I don't want to look up your nose."_

"Oh." He did as asked. "Sorry. I can't tell where the camera is."

"_Ha Ha." _Sienna laughed again, closing her eyes. _"You're not quite what I expected. To hear the recruits speak of you, I expected someone taller, wider and with more presence. Someone like Adam."_

Thinking of the man somehow stuck in his head – or his soul; he really wasn't sure yet – Jaune frowned. "I'm nothing like Adam."

"_I can tell. Adam is dead. You are not."_ Did everyone have to keep bringing that up? _"I did not call for mere pleasantries, however. Your progress has not gone unnoticed back in Menagerie. Your work so far has gone some way to alleviating concerns over your… rapid promotion within the ranks. You've done well, Jaune."_

"I… uh… aim to please?"

"_I'm glad to hear it. You'll have no problem continuing to please, then. We have decided that due to your current actions, it's a prime opportunity to rebuild the Vale branch. Funds are being transferred to an account you can utilise. Ilia will receive the details from the Albain brothers soon. A warehouse has been purchased and transferred to a holding account for your use."_

They had a base? While it would be nice to move out the sewers, there was a certain security to it that he knew would be missing up top. On the other hand, he couldn't just say no to what was meant to be a generous gift. Well, and a direct order, but the orders came wrapped as a gift.

"Already?" he asked nervously. More people meant more confusion and difficulty controlling them. What if someone ended up undoing all his good work by being a racist and hurting someone? It was hard to remember with all the others being so normal, but they were still terrorists. "I was hoping to build more of a reputation before making that move," he lied. "Take advantage of having a smaller team."

"_Your core team can remain as it is but you will need resources. Do this and I may be able to provide more. I will expect continued success from you. I will be watching, as will everyone in the White Fang. The Albain brothers have also provided a small gift for you, with the message that they are excited to see what you will achieve with it. We will speak again in a week. I expect to hear that you have begun recruitment in that time."_

Or he'd be replaced. Jaune nodded glumly. "I'll see it done."

"_Good. I will speak with you soon."_

The call ended abruptly. Jaune sagged, sighing and lamenting the pounding headache he could feel coming on. That had been both less and more terrifying than he'd expected. He'd come out alive and unchallenged at the end of it – she hadn't even asked if he was a faunus – but now she expected all sorts of things to be done, and if he didn't do it then she'd start to ask why.

_They're terrorists,_ he reminded himself. _I'm not going to get a written warning for letting her down. The only thing I'll get in writing is an obituary. _

"That went well."

Jaune looked to Ilia desperately. "Did it? Did it, though?"

"Sienna and Adam always used to butt heads. They hated one another. I don't think she'd have ever given him a gift or acknowledge him no matter what he achieved."

"With how everyone goes on about Adam, I'm wondering why anyone even followed him…"

Ilia shrugged. "He was strong. We didn't have to like his personality."

Great. And he had said person in his dreams. Worse, Adam wasn't even strong in his head, which meant his only apparent redeeming quality was gone. "I didn't want to start recruiting this soon," Jaune said.

"Didn't you just recruit Lisa?"

"That's different. And I really think we shouldn't say that to Sienna."

"There's a reason I didn't," Ilia said. "It's not lying if we forget to mention it."

"I like the way you think, Ilia."

"Thanks." She rolled her eyes but did smile. "There's no helping it, though. If Sienna says she's expecting results, that means you're going to have to get them. It's worse with the Albain brothers so interested."

"And they are…?"

"Just think of them as other important White Fang people, but they prefer behind the scenes stuff. They're the face of the White Fang in Menagerie so they have a lot of power. They used to promote Adam as a successor to Sienna. Looks like they've decided you're next."

"Are they dangerous?"

"Not directly, but they can turn a lot of people against us. It'd be best if we didn't disappoint them."

Great. Perfect. Jaune sighed into his palm. He'd really hoped to delay on the whole base and recruitment thing, preferably until after his name was cleared so he could hand himself in, escape, and leave it to someone else to handle. No such luck now.

"I guess we should check out our new base…"

Ilia nodded. "I'll tell the others."

/-/

"I want to help."

"You are already helping, Miss Belladonna." They were not the words Blake wanted to hear from the headmaster. She clenched her hands into fists under the table and tried not to glare at him. "Information on the White Fang is worth more to us than the efforts of a single person. We _are_ acting on what you have told us."

"With all due respect, it's not enough. They're still out there."

The headmaster chuckled. "Not all action has to be obvious, or immediate. Whatever their intent and our misgivings, it would be a bad idea to move against Jaune Arc now, when he has just done the city a service."

"It's a distraction. A smokescreen."

"I agree." He held up a hand to stop her. "I completely agree, Miss Belladonna. They are at the end of the day a terrorist group. That said, not everyone feels that way."

How? How could anyone think otherwise? Blake wanted to scream and wring someone's neck. Were people blind? Did they not realise this person had killed before? Or was it okay that he killed since it was just Adam? Just a bad person. No problems if _he_ gets murdered.

"So, you're not going to do anything?"

"I didn't say that. While I'm not at liberty to share our methods with a student," he stressed her position, "I can say that we are searching for them. It's not as though we can wander Vale in the hopes of bumping into them, can we?"

"It worked for Ruby…"

"Yes." Ozpin sighed. "And Miss Rose is fortunate no ill came of that meeting."

"What if I could find something?" she pressed. "If I found out where they were located?"

"Then by all means, we would act on it. We're not ignoring the White Fang, Miss Belladonna. With the Vytal Festival approaching, it could spark an international incident if we did. If you know of where they might be or are able to find evidence, then I shall have a huntsman act upon it to bring Mr Arc to justice. I simply don't want you rushing into danger on some ill-advised campaign against your former companions."

Hadn't that just been what she said she'd do? Or did he think she meant looking through newspapers or on the computer? Probably the latter. Blake nodded, eager to keep the headmaster thinking that way. "I'll do some searching," she said, standing. "If I find anything, I'll bring it straight to you. Is that okay?"

"Of course. I'll look forward to the results of your research."

Research. Yeah. Sure. Totally. There was a weekend coming up and her team were being downright impossible lately, ever since the truth of her past came out. Weiss was on edge, admittedly for good reason, and Yang and Ruby were being obnoxious with trying to force her and Weiss to spend time together and make up. Time would heal those wounds, while forcing them to confront the issue was only going to make it worse.

"You will remember, of course, that you are not to leave Beacon would an escort," Ozpin said quickly. "And that you need to both ask permission from a teacher and inform us of where you will be going and wear a tracking device. This was part of your agreement to be allowed into Beacon."

"I remember." Humiliating as it was, it was a small price to pay compared to imprisonment. "I'm fine with that. I was just thinking of going shopping for some dust this weekend."

His eyes narrowed. "Miss Belladonna…"

"Only dust," she promised, lying through her teeth. "I need it for my Semblance."

"And Miss Schnee cannot provide?"

"We're not on good terms right now…"

"Of course. How could I forget?" He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will sign off on this little excursion provided you travel with Miss Rose or Miss Xiao-Long. If you are thinking of endangering yourself, I would ask you not only to _not do so_ but also to think of how your actions might drag your friends into danger. I have someone handling this."

He might have, but they didn't know the White Fang like she did.

/-/

Tukson located the building online and found directions for them to reach it. Thankfully, it was late enough at night that no one paid much attention to two black vans driving down the industrial district. They pulled through a set of open gates and into a parking lot. A low brick wall hid them from view, allowing them out into the night air.

The building rose up before them, squat and ugly with a large billboard featuring a grossly smiling face of some toy brand mascot. A hideous cross between a bicycle and a dog with an inhuman grin. Under it, the bold and bubbly writing suggested the building had once been a depot for a children's toy manufacturer, probably before computer games became the norm and pushed them out of business.

"Okay, that creeps me out," Yuma said, looking up at it. "Am I the only one?"

"It's hideous," Perry said. "Can we paint over it?"

"Paint what?" Deery asked. "White Fang Incorporated?"

"It'd be the perfect double bluff. No one would dare think we were White Fang with that message on our front door."

"The sign stays," Jaune said, sighing as his sneakers hit the ground. "And can we hurry it up? I don't feel safe us all being out like this in the open. Let's check the place out, see what we're working with and then go back to our nice, comfy sewer."

"Or we could stay here," Trifa said.

"Or we could not," he replied.

"But the sewer smells…"

"The sewer is good for you, young lady. Eat your sewer."

Trifa blinked. "What?"

"What?" Jaune echoed, and then ignored the conversation entirely. "Come on. Apparently, there's a gift waiting inside. I hope it's a fruit basket. I'm getting a little tired of bacon and eggs every morning. No, Bane, that wasn't an insult. It's okay." He rubbed the huge man's arm, instantly contrite as the towering mass of muscle took the complaint personally. "You make the best breakfasts; I just need some Vitamin C. Lisa, why are you recording this?"

"Practice," she replied, holding a large camera on her shoulder. There were hundreds of smaller and handheld varieties he'd seen before, but she was determined she needed a proper one. "It's been a while since I had to film so I need the practice. I won't publish this, obviously. It would give the base's location away."

And man, that would be such a shame. Why, they might even have to stay in the sewer and put off the recruitment as the warehouse was raided. Tch. Awful. It would set them back weeks. Months, even. Ilia crushed his dreams by pushing the camera down and shaking her head. Lisa, now with her very own White Fang mask that did little to hide her distinctive lavender-coloured hair, pouted but turned it off.

He couldn't catch a break.

Ilia approached the front door and typed the code provided into the aging lock system. It beeped and clicked, the door pushing open under her hand. "The message from Fennec says it was bought by a sympathiser in the city. They wouldn't say who, probably to protect them."

"Oooh. That sounds interesting."

"Down, Lisa," Jaune said. "No hunting down someone on our side. What about this gift Sienna mentioned?"

"Nothing in the message. Guess we'll have to find it."

Yuma walked into the main warehouse part and paused. He looked up and opined, "Found it."

"Already?" Jaune sighed. "What are we looking aaaaa-"

Huge segmented plates of white and grey adorned a hulking figure stood against the back wall of the warehouse, kneeling on one foot and yet still so large that its head and shoulders brushed up against the ceiling. No professional when it came to military hardware, he'd still watched enough Saturday morning cartoons to recognise a fucking _mech_ when he saw one. Weapons bristled over its arms, each looking powerful enough to incinerate a police car at several hundred metres.

The small group of White Fang stood before its left foot, Bane at the tallest and still not reaching up to its knees. Their heads craned back, mouths dropping open. Jaune was the first to speak, though it came out as a loud and angry cry.

"HOW IS THIS A SMALL GIFT!?"

* * *

**Wait a minute. Jaune running a terrorist group. A journalist joining them. A robot. Did this become Code Geass without me noticing? Ironically, that's a complete accident on my part. I'm just using the stuff the White Fang got provided in canon and throwing in Lisa, but it's funny how as soon as I wrote this scene I was like "wait… Lelouch?"**

**Except, you know, the strategy, intellect and ability to control people's minds with his Geass.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 25****th**** February**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	9. Chapter 9

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 9**

* * *

"Okay. Everyone who can pilot a giant mega death robot, raise your hands."

Surprisingly enough, no hands were raised. Jaune nodded, rubbing his chin with one hand.

"I see. I see. Alright. Anyone who has any experience in a vehicle even slightly resembling a giant mega death robot, raise their hands." No one. Hm. Interesting. It was almost like piloting Atlas battle robots wasn't a widely accessible skillset. Who could have guessed? "Awesome. So, we have the most expensive, illegal and criminally hot paperweight on the planet. That's nice. Wow, this gift is really well thought out…"

"Uh. Well that's one way of putting it, boss," Perry said.

"I've driven a tank," Yuma offered. "That might be similar."

"I thought we agreed you'd never drive a tank again," Trifa said.

"Did _we_ agree that, or was it just you?"

"It was we. When I had the gun to your head and was thinking of pulling the trigger."

"I think you should be the one to pilot it, Jaune." Lisa interrupted with a coy smile visible under her mask. "The bigger you seem, the greater the message your name will send. If you have someone else do it for you, you take away from the mystery. The majesty."

Lisa only cared about the story. Sighing, he ran a hand down his face and looked back up at the thing. It was huge. Beyond that, it was sleek and shiny with a White Fang logo stamped onto both of its outer limbs… well, where the _thigh_ would be on a human. It was bipedal, but that only made it look harder to pilot. He'd played racing simulators before in the arcade but his dad didn't have a car to ever practice on. Ansel wasn't big enough to need them.

The logical thing to do was let someone else use it. Whomever did was going to be in the thick of danger and a big target, so he didn't want himself anywhere near that. If there was honestly a way to get rid of it, he would. _The Albain brothers would be upset, Sienna would be angry and I'd probably end up dead and replaced._

So, who was the be the pilot? Perry?

_The Paladin zoomed around a corner at high speed and clipped a nearby building, shattering homes and bringing the structure down. "Sorry!" Perry yelled. "This thing doesn't come with any brakes. Whoooo! This is so cool! Hey, do you think I can pull a back flip off that ramp? Time to find out!"_

Jaune snapped back out his daydream with a shudder. Not Perry. There was a good reason he was never allowed behind the wheel of a getaway vehicle again. Giving him the multi-million lien robot was definitely out the question. Deery? She wasn't insane or anything, just a little clumsy...

"_What does this button do?" A missile flew out the Paladin and impacted a news bullhead in the sky, sending it crashing down in a burning wreck onto an orphanage, which quickly caught fire. "Oops! I didn't mean that. Ah. What do I do?" All around her, buildings went up in flames, while an embarrassed killer robot stood in the middle, scratching its mechanical head. _

No. Not Deery.

Yuma?

"_Oops. I accidentally stepped on some humans. Whoops I did it again."_ _The Paladin brought a hand up to its cockpit in a vague display of shy guilt. "I'm so clumsy, tee-hee. Oh well, I guess I'll need to step on some more humans too."_

No. Absolutely not.

Bane was too big. Tukson was too. Trifa?

_The final police car burst into flames as the Paladin raked its position. The fires burned through the night. "Enemies neutralised," Trifa said, satisfied. "Finally, with this the White Fang can take over this city!"_

Gah. No, it couldn't be anyone from the _proper_ White Fang as they were all used to fighting and absolutely _would_ use it to kill people. That struck Ilia out as well, even if she was more reasonable than the others.

That left…

"_News just in this morning as the White Fang's Paladin robot danced its way across the city, attacking numerous locations and declaring its leader, the wanted terrorist Jaune Arc, the King of Vale, sending out a challenge to all pretenders. This is Lisa Lavender, first on the scene of this incredible, amazing, awesome story."_

A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. Lisa would _absolutely_ use it to try and make a big story, ignoring orders if she thought it was "in his best interests" to do something else. Giving her that kind of firepower was out of the question. Which meant…

Damn it.

"Fine. _I'll_ pilot the stupid thing."

"Good idea, boss."

"Yeah. I like it."

"The leader should have the death robot."

_Only because I can't trust any of you not to use it for terrible purposes,_ he thought. All it would take was one wrong press of a button and they'd screw his chances of ever proving his innocence. If he wanted to show Vale he wasn't a danger, _he_ had to be the one in charge of the most dangerous equipment – if only to make sure it wasn't used.

"I've got no idea how to go about that, though…"

"Eh." Perry shrugged. "How hard can it be?"

"Very, I imagine. Do you think there's an instruction manual?"

"I don't think Atlas would send one with a prototype machine like this," Lisa pointed out. "Lest it be stolen and used against them. They'd have one, maybe two, designated test pilots who knew how, but that would be it."

"You'll just have to try it out," Ilia said. "We can unload the munitions so nothing goes wrong. Just press buttons and see what happens."

Sure, and hit the self-destruct. Or was that just for movie and anime? Surely military hardware costing millions wouldn't literally have a mechanism on board that could cause the whole thing to go up with the push of a button or a stray bullet hitting the charge. _Not in a test prototype anyway._

"The Albain brothers can't complain if it takes me time to master this," he decided. "And taking it out before I master it would be a terrible idea and a waste of their resources."

Yuma considered that. "True."

"And practice is going to be hard since we're in the middle of the city so I can't exactly take it out for a spin."

"I guess," Trifa said.

"So that means the best thing we can do is _not_ use this recklessly and let it stay here."

"He has a point," Tukson agreed. "The moment we take this out, we give up our location."

Ha. Score. The perfect excuse. He'd just need to make sure that got back to the Albain brothers before anything bad could happen. "Well that' that," he said. "We have a warehouse and a robot. Not what I expected, but somehow less awful than I imagined." He clapped his hands, done with it all. "Can we go back to our sewer now? I'm homesick."

"We should relocate here," Deery said.

"You missed a n't there," Jaune pointed out. "Should_n't_. We _shouldn't_ relocate here."

"Why not, boss? It has everything."

Jaune looked around. The place was barren. "It has nothing."

"It has clean air," Ilia said.

"It has an absence of rats and insects," Deery echoed.

"It has a roof that doesn't drip on us," Trifa agreed. "And floor that isn't wet. Also, we don't have to deal with traffic above, rising water levels when it rains or the sight and smell of human feces drifting by in the morning."

"Hey!" Jaune chided. "No racism. Human feces are no different than faunus feces."

"Shit is shit!" Trifa bellowed. "I can't deal with it anymore! A girl has standards!"

"Oh my lord," Yuma whispered, charging off. "It – It has a vending machine! Boss, we've got a vending machine. A-And a coffee machine! We _have_ to live here. We just have to!"

Hot coffee? Hmm. No. No! Jaune shook his head. No giving in. The sewer – stinky, rotten, wet and horrible as it was – was safe. It was hidden. It… It didn't have chocolate and peanut goodness, central heating or room for actual beds.

"B-But the risks," he whined.

"If this robot gets stolen, the White Fang are going to be furious," Ilia pointed out. "So, either way we'd be in a lot of trouble. At least if we're here we can keep an eye on it. Make sure random people don't come exploring and find it."

Jaune glared at her. "Et tu, Ilia? Was it the coffee or the snacks?"

"Neither." A second later, Ilia's stomach grumbled. Her face turned bright red. "O-Or maybe it was one of those. But the warm floors sound nice, you have to admit."

"I dub thee Lord Brewington," Yuma said loudly. "Long may you percolate."

"Don't name it!" Jaune complained. "You'll only grow attached."

It was too late. The White Fang bustled past with the kind of mindless drones of an office breaking off for lunch and crowding the kitchen. They squashed through the door like water squeezing through a drain, powered into the staff room area and immediately started putting coins into the vending machines.

"Why are you even paying?" he whined. "You're terrorists. It's a vending machine."

"Hey. Don't hurt Vendi-chan's feelings."

"Damn it, Yuma…"

/-/

Despite his best efforts, the wiles of Lord Brewington and Vendi-chan won out, poisoning his people's minds with caffeine and sugar until they lay as satisfied messes on the floor, all except for Yuma who had his head and shoulders in a cupboard. He seemed determined to explore every nook and cranny of their new home. Jaune instantly pegged him as the kind of guy to go through your drawers and cupboards when you weren't looking "just because".

"We can keep the mini-CCT in the sewers," Ilia said. "It'll be a back-up base in case this one gets compromised. Perry and Deery can buy us some camping supplies tomorrow. Maybe grab some sleeping bags and pillows."

"I will bring food," Bane said. "Have fridge now. And stove." He ran a hand lovingly over the kitchen stove.

Damn it. Not warm and properly cooked food as well. How was he going to convince them to stick to the sewers now? Jaune grumbled and scoffed down his jelly sours, fixing Vendi-chan with an angry glare. _I'm not falling for your subtle games. No matter how much sugar you give me._

"I'll see if I can't find some things to make this a little more homely as well," Lisa said. "You need a television for one. How else can you watch me without one? We can't just sit here all night, though. The White Fang needs to _do_ something."

"Do we?" Jaune asked. "Do we really?"

"Yes. The charity is good but you've given out enough food to last a week and the police will be looking for you there. This is an unparalleled opportunity to make a name for yourselves. Naturally, I will record the whole thing."

"It's that or recruiting," Ilia pointed out. "Sienna expects one or the other."

Recruiting still sounded like a terrible idea. Both did, but with recruitment meant bigger operations and more people to keep an eye on. At least with less than ten of them now, he could make sure no one was going to go off the rocker or cause serious damage. That'd change if he had to try and manage a hundred people.

"Alright. What were those things you mentioned again? The corrupt councillor and the police guy?"

"Captain Redcliffe. He's a go-getter who is obsessed with progressing up the chain."

"Doesn't sound like the kind of guy to take bribes," Yuma said.

"Normally I'd agree, but I know for a fact he does…" Lisa smiled. "Because he's taken mine in the past."

"Wow." Trifa rolled her eyes. "Just wow."

"Not bribes for me to get out of trouble. It's just a bonus he gets if I mysteriously find out about a big case ahead of the competition." She laughed it off, "Really, it's nothing to worry about. Or think about. Point is, if he's willing to do it for me, he's willing to do it for others – for the right price."

"Isn't a crooked cop a good thing? Can't we use him?"

"You could, but it would go against your image." Lisa pointed to Jaune. "You're righting wrongs. Exposing corruption. You can't become a part of that or you'll lose all momentum."

She had a point. And even if she didn't, his goal wasn't to cause crimes anyway so it wasn't an issue. Jaune nodded for her to go on.

"Now I can't prove definitively he's on Torchwick's pay, but it seems likely. Either way, I'm not suggesting we go after Redcliffe just yet. A false accusation can be just as bad as doing the wrong thing in the first place."

"Then…?" Jaune prompted.

"There is a dust shipment coming in from the SDC tomorrow night. A lot of dust, which Roman has been _very keen_ on procuring lately." Lisa grinned and leaned forward. "And wouldn't you know it, but for _some reason_ Captain Redcliffe has decided to re-direct his patrols from the docks to another part of the city. Interesting timing, hm?"

Interesting was one way of putting it. That wasn't enough to go off and the guy might have had his reasons beyond bribery, but he could see why Lisa wanted to dig deeper. If they weren't here, she'd have likely done it herself anyway. It would have taken time, though. Time both to investigate and to bring charges – and how hard was it charging someone who was already in the legal system?

A person like that would have friends in high places. They might even be able to make the news disappear, and with the Vytal Festival coming up soon, the newspapers would soon be full of that, giving Captain Redcliffe a perfect chance to get away with it all. Assuming he didn't just tell the crooks he was taking money from and have them threaten, hurt or kill Lisa.

There was precious little anyone else could do. The evidence was just too flimsy.

The White Fang, though. They could do whatever they wanted. "Are you saying we should ensure the dust shipment comes through successfully?"

"Doesn't that mean helping the SDC?" Ilia asked, annoyed.

"The dust has already been sold by the SDC," Lisa pointed out. "Whether it's stolen by Torchwick or not, the Schnee already have their profit. Right now, it's Vale's dust. The people who will be hurt by it being taken are normal folk living in Vale who'll find their energy bills going through the roof. It's going to push people into debt."

"And some of those people won't be able to handle that," Tukson said. "The most destitute of people being faunus, who already straddle the poverty line as it is…"

Lisa made a _Ka-Ching_ noise and pointed to him.

"And if it _is_ stolen, Vale would need to buy more from the SDC," Yuma said. "Sure, it'd be paid for by insurance, but it's still more profit for Jacques Schnee and the asshole brigade. You know what, fuck it. I'm in. Let's stop a robbery."

He was surprised how quickly the sentiment spread. Not for the prospect of doing the right thing, but the dual angle of screwing over the SDC and helping the faunus who were most likely to be pushed into debt. He supposed that shouldn't have been a shock. They were White Fang after all. It was kind of what they were all about.

Either way, stopping a wanted criminal would look good for him.

/-/

"Are you ready to talk like a normal person yet, or are you still in denial?"

"I'm still in denial to be honest." Jaune wasn't sure where to focus his attention. His mind, if it really was his mind, was a depressingly empty place. No sewer, forest or anything else that might have suited his life. Just empty space in a shade of blue-black. The only people within it were him, which made sense, and Adam, which made no sense. "Are you… Are you real…?"

Adam scowled. "How would I have the answer to that? I _feel_ real, but then I would, wouldn't I?"

A figment of his imagination would believe itself real.

"I have memories of before you met me," Adam said. "Those are enough to convince me, though there's no guarantee those are accurate since you can't confirm them. Did I really love someone as flighty as Blake? Or did you simply create that in your mind and I believe it?" He scowled. "Looking back, I'm inclined to believe I was either mad for loving her or desperate."

"Who…?"

"Blake. The girl _you_ cross-dressed as."

Oh. The cat faunus. Someone who existed, and who Adam apparently knew before. Jaune winced. It wasn't something that was proof on its own, but he hadn't had any idea Adam dated her, so if he asked Ilia in the waking world and she confirmed it… Well, that was going to make things a little crazy. He was almost afraid to ask.

"If you are real, then how are you in my head?"

"Do you think I have the answer to that? You murdered me. You did this."

"I didn't mean to!"

"Stop!" Adam hissed, hand held out. "Hearing that only annoys me more. You meant to. You intended to. For the sake of what little pride I have left, at least _pretend_ it wasn't some ridiculous accident that let you best me."

Adam sounded real. Too real.

"This… This doesn't make sense."

"Finally, we agree on something." Adam smirked his way, holding his arms out. "None of this makes sense and I've been the only one trying to _make sense_ of it. For now, I'm going to assume Semblance and go from there."

"My Semblance…?"

"Well it's certainly not mine, is it? Seeing as how I'm dead. Aura is the soul and Semblances run on aura, so you already have Semblances messing with souls before this situation came along. For better or worse – and trust me," he muttered, "It's worse. You and I are stuck together. I get to witness what you do, but I cannot interact or even reach you."

"Have you tried?"

"Of course. I've been screaming bloody murder every time you do something stupid."

Oh right. That made sense. And he hadn't heard a thing, which suggested Adam couldn't talk to him except when he was sleeping. "So, um, I take it you're not thrilled with how things are going?"

Adam crossed his arms.

"To be fair, I'm not exactly a _trained_ terrorist."

"No. You're a trained idiot. Your methods…" He sighed. "I wouldn't even be angry about those, except that I can see your motivation, or you lack of it. You have no loyalty to the cause. You'll betray the White Fang at the first opportunity."

"I wouldn't rat the others out…"

"Because you like them. Bizarre as that sounds."

"They're good people."

"Bane is a good person," Adam snarled. "The others are idiots. Useful idiots, but idiots all the same. And now they're being led by the King of Idiots. Wonderful. Truly wonderful. The blind leading the blind."

"Hey." Jaune stiffened defensively. "I think we're doing a good job."

"You are." Adam's agreement surprised him. "That's what annoys me most. That is the only reason why I stepped in to unlock your aura and save your life. Because, whether I like it or not, the White Fang needs you. Therefore…" Adam closed his eyes. His shoulders fell. "Therefore, it is in my best interests to assist you."

It sounded like Adam had to rip out his own teeth as he said that, so forced was it. What he actually said might have sounded nice, but for one thing.

"Didn't your plans completely fail?"

"BECAUSE I WAS MURDERED BY AN IDIOT!"

"That's… still technically a failure on your part…"

"If I could strangle you, I would. And I would enjoy it so damn much. Instead, I have to play babysitter. Tell me, Arc, what do you know of staking out a location? What do you know of leading people into a _real combat scenario¸_ the likes of which you'll be facing tomorrow with Torchwick? What do you know of making decisions on the fly that will dictate whether these people you've come to accept in some small way live or die?"

Nothing.

He knew nothing.

But Adam; Adam knew things.

"Teach me."

"I'm no charity. There are things I want in return."

"I'm helping the White Fang!"

"You're helping yourself. Let's not pretend otherwise. Whether I assist you or not you'd need to help the White Fang. If you want _my_ aid, you must do something for me. Don't worry. It's not murder-related, even if that seems to be your best skill." Adam's lips curled up. "Consider it dealing with my unfinished business."

"And if I do this, you'll help?"

"Of course. I'll teach you what you need to know."

Jaune swallowed. This was a deal with the devil right here. "How dangerous are these tasks?"

Adam made a so-so gesture. "Hard to say. I'm not asking you to fight Grimm, though you may wish it was that simple. It's more… dealing with those I've left behind."

"Like family?" Jaune asked, feeling a rare amount of sympathy.

"My family have long since fallen to human tyranny. But you're not far off. It's someone I considered family once. Though I'm not sure how I see her now. Death has a unique way of opening your mind to new ideas. I lack the burning rage I should have." He considered it for a moment. "I wonder if that's a lack of hormones. Adrenaline. Glands."

"Glands…?"

"Something I read once. Either way, I can think a little more clearly, but that only raises more questions. It will be your job to find answers. Agree to that and I'll help you. I'll even teach you how to case and launch an ambush tonight. It may well save their lives on the morrow."

He'd have liked to say he thought about it. Liked to say he considered how losing people would look both to the White Fang and the media. How him waging a bloodless battle would make him appear kind, but how fallen White Fang left behind would remind everyone this was bloody combat, which would go against what Lisa suggested. He'd have liked to say he considered every aspect and decided based on weighting of merits.

There wasn't much point lying about it, though. Not here.

"Fine. I'll do it. Help me and I'll help you."

Adam's smirk grew. "Without even hearing what it is I want of you?"

"I've got a feeling I'll only feel worse if I asked…"

"It's nothing too hard."

"That doesn't fill me with confidence, Adam."

"I just need you to help me sort things out with my ex from beyond the grave. My ex who ran away after considering me a violent maniac, and who has even now dedicated her life to thwarting the White Fang and all I ever stood for."

Jaune stared at the dead man in his head. Adam had the good grace to look _marginally_ embarrassed about it all. Not that it helped any.

"For fuck's sake, Adam…"

/-/

Jaune lay on the rooftop with a pair of binoculars focused on the large metal containers stacked one on top of the other. There were numerous ones around the dock's storage area, but the pale blue ones with the white logo of the SDC stood out. Inside each, he'd been told, would be wooden crates padded within, with vials and jars of dust stacked neatly. Hundreds of thousands in lien, perhaps even over a million in total, waiting to be passed onto homes and shops around the city.

Given all that, it really was suspicious that there were no police guarding it.

"You'd think the SDC would at least send someone," he muttered.

"No point," Ilia replied. "It's like Yuma said; their job is just to transport it. Keeping it safe is Vale's problem. And they're not putting much effort in there."

"_And here we have Jaune Arc in his natural habitat, looking over Vale and protecting its best interests from a distance. See the demeanour of a predator waiting in the bushes for its prey. Calm. Calculated. Steady."_

Ilia turned over to look back at Lisa. "What are you-?"

"Don't." Jaune pulled Ilia back, expression pained. "Don't encourage her."

"_With but a gesture and a word, Jaune Arc shows his dominance to the rest of the pack, establishing himself at the head of the hierarchy. The beta female naturally submits to his whims."_

Ilia's brow twitched.

Twice.

Jaune shook his head. It wasn't worth it.

"_Their role tonight is simple. They will lay an ambush for the villain, Roman Torchwick, and once he steps in to take it, they shall spring. And it seems, dear viewer, that the White Fang's prey has walked directly into their trap."_

Jaune swore and pulled the binoculars up. He couldn't see anything.

"_Realising he can't see anything,"_ Lisa prompted, _"The Jaune Arc looks about ten degrees to the right."_

Sighing, he did as `narrated` and quickly saw a Bullhead approaching from the direction of the ocean. Behind it was another, coming in low and with its lights turned off. They were quiet from such a distance, though that would change when they got closer.

"Ilia," he said. "How hard would it be to fly a Bullhead over the city?"

"Incredibly hard, I'd think. It's not like Vale is just going to ignore armed aircraft coming in…"

"Then why, I ask, is nothing happening?"

"I… I don't know." Ilia frowned. "A police captain couldn't manage all this. There'd be an alarm of aircraft sent to intercept or _something_. I mean, that could be any old Nevermore flying in to start massacring civilians and it's just allowed to."

"Suspicious. Are the others in position?"

"Yes."

Good. Jaune licked his lips and watched as the first Bullhead settled down. The ramp at the back opened and a tall figure garbed in white strolled out with a remarkable lack of concern. His cane twirled and his black cap did little to hide the bright orange hair. He shouted something back to the people in the Bullhead, and soon men were filing out, dressed in black suits with red ties.

"_Romanus Torchwickus,"_ Lisa whispered. _"Colloquially known as `the dandy`. A thief wanted across Vale for thefts reaching into the millions. Rated third most handsome male in Vale's annual _`Wow` _magazine Top 100."_

"No accounting for taste," Ilia muttered. She rose into a kneeling position and put her binoculars down. "I'll get closer and see what I can find."

Jaune caught her ankle. "Is that safe?"

With a ripple, Ilia's skin and hair became a faded out grey, matching her uniform and making her hard to see in the dark gloom, especially down there where there was so much concrete. He let her go and she hurried to the edge, hopping down and away.

"_See how Jaune Arc shows such concern for his compatriots, ensuring their safety before his own. As the Torchwick moves through the docks in search of his goal, he has no idea how closely the net closes around him. The hunters may soon become the hunted."_

"Are you going to narrate _all_ of this? Really?"

"No," Lisa said casually. "Most of it's going to be edited since you keep mentioning Ilia by name. The commentary is more so I know what to focus on. Now. Ahem." Her voice deepened again. _"The first of the White Fang close in on their prey. Will they be discovered? Will Roman Torchwick escape? As ever, nature is both beautiful and cruel, and what we shall soon see stands only as a reminder of that fact."_

Jaune rolled his eyes and went back to watching. Torchwick had a container open and was inspecting the goods. The whole SDC symbol gave it away, but he supposed it would have been embarrassing had he stolen a container only to find it full of teddy bears. Uncorking one jar, Torchwick stuck a finger in and rubbed the dust. He said something and tossed the jar back in, and soon the suited goons were closing the container and hooking long cables through the carry bars on top.

They were going to airlift the dust out. He'd wondered how they planned to shift it, but he'd assumed it would be via lorry, carrying it crate after crate inside until the cargo containers were empty. That would have been more subtle, though much longer.

How did they expect to just fly away with a cargo container of dust? Surely someone would notice. Where were they even going to store it? Getting it out was one thing, but where would you land and put it? How would you sell it? Honestly, the answer was probably the same as how the Albain brothers could smuggle a flipping _death robot_ into a city. Magic. Pure magic.

The others were in position. Yuma and Trifa had point, while Perry and Deery had the less dangerous task of closing of the gates to prevent potential escape. That wasn't much use now with Torchwick's route having been revealed as by air, but it would let them support from a distance. Important given their lesser combat experience.

Adam's teachings had instilled that in his head.

Bane and Tukson had the more dangerous tasks, though Tukson's role was as support for Bane. They were to distract Torchwick – a huntsman level foe – until Ilia could find an opening to disable him from behind.

The trap had been set, and Jaune watched as shadowy figures in white masks carefully picked their way through the cargo containers, closing in on the oblivious thieves in the centre, tightening the noose. The element of surprise was theirs. Adam had ensured he knew just how valuable that was. He who struck first, struck hardest. And often struck last.

Roman wouldn't know what hit him.

Jaune didn't know what hit him either.

One second he was watching the trap be sprung, and the next Lisa gasped half a second before a boot smacked down on the back of his head, smashing his face down into the binoculars and the binoculars down into the roof of the building he was camped on. Glass and plastic shattered over his face while he swallowed a mouthful of grout and moss.

A fist settled in the scruff of his neck, hauling him up, and a cold blade was laid against his throat. Stood suddenly on the precipice of the roof, he was silhouetted against the streetlights behind. No one had noticed yet, Torchwick focused on the dust and the White Fang focused on Torchwick, but that didn't last as the girl holding him hostage shouted out boldly.

"Brothers of the White Fang!"

He had a perfect view of every head in the docks swivelling in his direction. Ilia's, Yuma and Trifa's, Tukson's. Then, there was Roman Torchwick and his goons, who suddenly realised what was going on and reached for weapons, scanning their surroundings and spotting Bane's hulking figure.

The element of surprise was shot in an instant, and the thuds of a girl in bright red, bright yellow and bright white landing on the roof behind him didn't exactly help. Jaune tried to point out he wasn't with the thieves, but the arm around his throat tightened, cutting off his oxygen.

"Brothers of the White Fang!" she shouted a second time. "Why are you working with this _human_?"

"Whoah!" Deery yelled, pointing up at her. "You can't say that!"

Perry, loyal Perry, helped in the only way he knew how.

"Yeah. That's racist!"

* * *

**Oh, hi Blake. I see you've finally found the "man with two souls" as per your favourite book series. **

**A wild Team RWBY appears to save the day. Or is it muck up the day? Hard to say. Let's hope Lisa keeps recordi- oh, who are we kidding. She's not going to miss a story like this, is she? Lisa rubbing her hands together behind them, "I smell a scandaaaal."**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 10****th**** March**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	10. Chapter 10

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing ****_my_**** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

**Note: Next chapter will be delayed – check dates at bottom.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 10**

* * *

_Perry, don't call the nice girl with the weapon to my neck a racist…_

Jaune tried to convey the message but it might have gotten lost over the distance, past her arm and in the absolute panic writ across his face. He wasn't a strategist but one idiot alone versus four girls from Beacon didn't feel like good odds. Well, technically he had Lisa as well, but she was still filming, so not exactly useful. His nose was bleeding too. It must have been cracked on the floor when she stamped on his head.

The fingers buried in his hair tightened painfully. "Ow. Ow. Ow!"

"R-Racist!?" the girl holding him hostage shrieked. "I'm not racist!"

"Then why is it such a big deal if we wanted to work with a human?" Perry fired back. Damn it, Perry. Why weren't you – oh, he didn't know – _helping him_ instead of chatting! "I mean, you make it sound like we wouldn't."

"You're the White Fang!"

"Yeah. So?" Perry planted his hands on his hips. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Y-You're terrorists!"

"Against racism," Deery said, for some godforsaken reason deciding to side with Perry. "That's kind of our whole thing, fighting racism against us based on our species. It'd be kind of backwards for us to be the same, wouldn't it? And how do you even know he's a human?"

The girl looked down on him and then up again. "He doesn't have any faunus features…"

"Oh wow." This time, because the world had truly gone _fucking insane_ it was Roman Torchwick himself who clapped his hands slowly, no doubt reading the scene and deciding a delay to talk was in his best interests.

Jaune didn't miss the fact he had his men hastily loading up the dust, but he couldn't speak because he was currently struggling to breathe. Meanwhile, everyone else was focused on the impromptu hostage negotiation.

"I mean wow, truly inspirational." Loudly, he applauded. "And I thought _I_ was the asshole here, but now we have a huntress making assumptions based on a person's appearance. Truly, I'm impressed. Why not judge his sexuality while you're at it? Or maybe you can go for the whole royal flush and decide who is and isn't a villain based on skin, hair or eye colour."

"I… but… but I…" The girl's weapon wavered. "But he's not a faunus…"

"Based on what?" Perry asked. "The fact he doesn't have animal ears or a tail? Faunus features aren't all _that_ obvious. You know what, screw you!" Perry stabbed a finger in their direction. "Acting all high and mighty when you just want to force your opinions on us. I wouldn't care even if my boss _was_ a human. He's earned my trust."

Warm, fuzzy feelings aside, Jaune really wished they'd stop antagonising the crazy girl.

"I'm not…" said girl's entire body went slack. "But I'm – I'm not racist." She turned to the other huntresses. "You all know I'm not, right…?"

The one in yellow smiled weakly. "Y-Yeah…"

The one with the red cloak kicked a pebble off the roof, hands in her pockets and looking the other way with an unhappy pout. Meanwhile, the one in white just looked uncomfortable. None of those responses were very convincing and the girl holding him trembled.

"You can't be serious…?"

"I'm a human," the one in red whispered sorrowfully. She sounded so small and frail that even _he_ wanted to rush over and tell her it'd all be okay. "Should I not be in charge of Team RWBY?"

The one holding him grunted as though she'd been shot. "R-Ruby, no, I didn't mean that!"

"Then what did you mean, Blake?" the white one, Weiss Schnee, asked.

Wait, so this was Adam's ex? Oh, come on, why couldn't anything ever be easy?

Blake shook him by the scruff of his neck. "He's a terrorist!"

"Yeah," the blonde said, "But you didn't _say_ `why are you following this terrorist`, did you? You asked why they were following a human…"

"It was a slip of the tongue!"

"Oh sure!" Perry yelled up at them. "That makes it _all_ better!"

"I-I dunno, Blake." Ruby kicked another pebble away. "I don't want to be on the wrong side of history…"

"It's a trick!" Blake cried, shaking him like she expected candy to pop out. "He's trying to trick us."

"He hasn't even _said_ anything," Weiss pointed out. "And I think he's choking to death."

"What?"

Jaune heaved for air when Blake finally released him. He took a step back, more out of a strong desire to be away from her than any other plan, but she took it as an escape attempt and lunged for him. Naturally, he did his best to dodge, which resulted in her clipping his shoulder and knocking him back. His foot sought purchase and found empty air. With a panicked yelp, he toppled back.

"He's escaping!" Blake cried.

"You just pushed him off the roof…" It was the blonde who replied, but Jaune didn't get a chance to thank her as he dropped like a rock.

Instincts kicked in, body reacting to the danger in the best way it could. He managed to turn in the air so he could see the ground coming up, draw in a deep breath of air and begin screaming. On hindsight, it probably wasn't the best series of actions to take.

"I've got you!"

Strong arms caught him? No. Not really. Frail arms caught him and then swiftly realised he was heavier than he looked. Ilia yelped and was dragged down with him, but she'd at least broken his fall enough that she could land on two feet with only a short gasp of pain. Jaune wrapped his arms around her neck, holding on for dear life and held in a bridal carry.

"I love you!" he gasped.

"Thank you…?" Ilia set him down. "I think. You can repay me by introducing me to one of your sisters."

"Wait, what?"

"Huntresses incoming."

Red, black, white and yellow floated down from above, apparently having set aside their differences for a short moment. Jaune swore and started running, Ilia close behind. Having lost the position of height to see the full docks, he had no idea what Torchwick was doing, but last he'd seen the man had been taking full advantage of the distraction.

"Torchwick is after the dust!" he yelled, hoping Trifa, Bane and Yuma would hear. "We have to stop hi-" His words trailed off as two Bullheads pulled up over the docks, the side door of one open and Roman hanging out, one foot on the railing and the other holding inside. He had his bowler hat in his other hand, which he'd swept out for them all.

"It's been fun, kids. Thanks for the save – I might have fallen prey to the local wildlife if you hadn't stepped in. You really saved me a lot of heartache."

"Racist!" Perry yelled, shaking a fist.

"Why yes," Roman grinned. "Yes, I am. Catch you lovely people later."

The Bullheads swept out over the water, escaping with a full cargo container of dust and all Jaune's hopes of them stopping a robbery. He groaned, watching them go with one arm outstretched, as if to catch and bring them back.

Four huntresses skidded to a stop only twenty paces away, weapons at the ready.

"Looks like you missed your flight outta here," the blonde quipped. "Don't worry, we'll give you a lift to your new home. A nice cell."

"You ruined everything," Jaune complained.

"That's kind of our job," Weiss replied, flicking her rapier. "Ruining the plans of dastardly villains."

"Then you failed your job. You have ruined zero criminal plans tonight…"

"Enough." Blake stepped forward. "You're going to surrender and pay for your crimes."

"Oh hey." Deery and Perry arrived in time to back them up. "It's the racist."

"I'M NOT A RACIST!" Blake pointed at Jaune. "AND _HE'S_ HUMAN!"

"That seems to be a strangely big deal for you," Deery pointed out. "Not that it matters, but he isn't. His faunus traits just aren't obvious."

"Because he's human!"

"Really not helping yourself here, Blake," Yang muttered.

"Let's just finish this quickly and get back to Beacon," Weiss said. "We can sort out the issue of Blake's prejudice later."

"I'm not prejudiced!"

They were acting a little too casual, weren't they? Joking and talking in front of enemies. Even with Torchwick gone, they were still – at least to their eyes – dangerous terrorists. Didn't they deserve at least the benefit of being taken seriously?

Perry flew back into a dust container and made a small crater in the metal. He slid down with a groan. Jaune flinched, eyes trying to track the blisteringly fast attack. The blonde had moved, though for the life of him he couldn't determine when. She was in the spot before where Perry had been, fist outstretched. Deery was backtracking, eyes wide behind her mask.

_Oh, that's why they're not taking us seriously…_

Because they didn't deserve to be.

Negotiations went downhill from there. Ruby raced in for Deery, who tried valiantly to fend her off but couldn't accomplish much. Yang moved to check Perry was down, and he definitely was. That left Blake and Weiss against him and Ilia, and given the absolute murderous look on her face, Blake wanted him.

And not in the good way.

"Wait, wait." Jaune held his hands out. "There's been a misunderstanding. We're not here to steal the dust. We're good guys."

"Terrorists and murderers…"

"I've not murdered anyone!" he yelled.

"What about Adam?"

"Oh, come on. Does he really count?"

Wrong answer. Jaune only had the sense to move because he felt oncoming death. He'd started dodging even before Blake moved, and that possibly saved his life for her weapon _punctured_ the metal cargo container he'd been backed up against, sticking in and raining dust down onto the floor. Blake yanked on the ribbon, hauling it out with a sickening grate of metal on metal.

Jaune did the only sensible thing. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, ducking around a cargo container and yelping at the clash of a weapon striking the corner. He caught the sound of two impacts above, then the metallic rap of someone running across the _top_ of the container in pursuit. He dashed to the left, heard the leap and the heavy landing, then cut right around another container stacked three high to try and lose her.

He ran right into her, skidding to a stop. "Nope!" Spinning on one heel, he charged back – into a second. A second Blake Belladonna. Panting for breath, he stood in the middle of two of the same huntress, eyes wide and heart racing. "O-Okay. This really doesn't feel fair now…"

Both went up in smoke but there was little time to savour the victory. A shadow grew under him, expanding out from his own. He'd later curse himself for it, but right then he stared down at it, trying to make heads or tails of what it meant. It only occurred to him to look up and see her flying down toward him a second later, and by that point it was much too late.

"Ah shi-"

Her feet landed on his chest and kicked back, launching him into a container. Jaune's head cracked back, stars dancing before his eyes. Slumping, he groaned and clenched his eyes shut, trying to shake off the dizziness. He staggered up with one hand on the container, spitting out a little blood and facing her as she stalked forward.

"I don't want to fight you!"

Her sword cleaved the air where his head had been. Even though he'd dodged that, she swept out with one foot and sent him rolling away.

"We don't have to be enemies!" he tried again. "I mean, the voice in my head can't decide whether it wants to kill or make love to you, but we don't…" Jaune trailed off, noticing her confused expression. "Okay. That didn't come out like I meant it." He shrugged helplessly. "Peace in our time?"

Blake's fist caught him by his collar and she dragged him up the side of the container, eyes burning hot and bright. Jaune's feet left the floor. The only thing he could do was hold onto her arm and try to keep himself from suffocating.

"You'll pay for what you've done…"

"I – hrk – haven't technically done _anything_!"

"Adam?"

"Apart from Adam!" he yelled. "Why does everyone keep bringing that up!?"

"Jaune!" A metallic whip struck and wrapped around Blake's arm, yanking it aside and breaking her grip. Ilia hauled Blake away, flicking her into a roll and releasing her hold, then rushing up to help him to his feet. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"A-Alive. Probably not great otherwise. What happened to the others?"

"Yuma and Trifa arrived to fight them. I came to help with Blake."

The woman in question jumped back onto her feet and stared them down, weapon out before her. Suddenly facing two, she looked less eager to attack. Her eyes roamed up and down Ilia's figure before focusing on her weapon.

"Ilia…"

Ilia swallowed. "Blake."

"I can't believe you're doing this, Ilia…"

"You can't? Why not? I was literally in the White Fang before you left. Not sure why you expected that to change." Though she said it with a laugh, Jaune detected a little panic in her voice. Under her breath, she whispered to him. "Go find help. I can distract her."

"Can you win?"

"I don't know. Not sure I'll have to – she's after you for some reason. Probably Adam."

Meaning she was liable to come racing after him even after he left. Jaune nodded and took the chance available, slipping back among the containers. Blake gave pursuit and tried to leap up, only to have the whip catch her legs and haul her back down.

"Your fight is with me, Blake," Ilia said. "You, me and a whip." She sighed. "This was a lot better in my fantasies…"

/-/

Perry was out. Deery was beaten. Trifa and Yuma were holding their own against two of the huntresses respectively, but they were the only ones who really had any experience of fighting on that level, which meant that despite the odds being nine to four in their favour, it more accurately broken down as four trained combatants against three, with the rest of them essentially being normal people trying their best.

Tukson and Bane were nowhere to be seen. They'd been going for Torchwick.

Presumably, Lisa was off being useless somewhere.

Jaune arrived on the scene in time to be stopped by a small girl in red. "Hi!"

"H-Hi," he shot back, nerves making him stammer a little. It was panic that had him ask the next question. "How are you?"

"I'm okay? I guess." Ruby looked a little confused but politely asked back, "How are you?"

"Oh, you know. Not great. Under attack. It's been a rough day."

"Yeah." She smiled awkwardly but there was none of that in the way she spun her scythe around. The damn thing was bigger than she was. "Sorry about Blake by the way. I don't think she meant to come off like that."

"Psychotically aggressive?"

"Um. More the race thing, though maybe we need to talk about the aggression too," she murmured under her breath. "I don't have anything against faunus by the way. I think they're cool. People should be judged by their weapons, not their physical traits."

"That's… good of you? I guess." Jaune inched back, idly wondering if he should draw his sword and how much of a difference that would make. It might just convince her to attack faster since he was armed. "Look, this is all one big misunderstanding. We're not on Torchwick's side. We came to _fight_ him."

"To get the dust?"

"To save the dust."

"I dunno…" She eyed him warily. "You tricked me before."

"When!?"

"You dressed up as Blake..."

"Oh, come on," he complained. "I was just standing there. You tricked yourself!"

"Proof of just how devious you are."

"Ruby!" Weiss yelled, mid-battle with Trifa and covered in sticky webbing. "Stop talking and _fight him_ already!"

Jaune dragged Crocea Mors out and prepared himself for disaster. What little advice Adam had offered wasn't going to make a big difference, but he slid a foot back and prepared himself all the same. Which was when a cargo container was shoved aside, skidding loudly along the concrete, and Bane arrived on the scene, muscles heaving and masked face swivelling in his direction.

"Bane!" Jaune yelped. "I've never been happier to see you!"

Ruby backed away, making sure she couldn't be attacked from two directions at once and could keep both of them in her vision. The new arrival created a lull in the fighting, Yuma backing off from the blonde and Trifa kicking off to swing up onto a container, leaving the Schnee on the ground. Said girl peeled off some sticky threads of spider silk and tossed them to the ground.

"Whoah." Yang quipped. "You're a big one."

"Another?" Weiss snapped. "Where do your kind keep springing up from?"

"My kind...?" Bane's head slowly turned to the one who had spoken. His mouth opened, a hot gout of breath bursting forth as took in the figure in white. "Schnee…" he murmured, the sound coming out cold and rattling, like chains dragged across stone.

Unlike the gentle giant he normally was.

"Schnee…" he repeated, shoulders bulging and veins standing out. "Schnee. Schnee. Schnee!"

"Yes. What of it?" The Schnee tossed her hair behind her, regarding Bane with absolute disdain. "Oh, let me guess. My family or someone related to it wronged you and that's all my fault. Please, it's a story I've heard before."

"That's not something to be proud of," Ruby muttered.

"I'm not proud. I'm just saying it's ridiculous to blame me for the faults of other peo-"

"SCHNEE!" Bane threw his head back and _roared_. His face, what could be seen past his mask, was bright red with veins standing out. His neck _bulged_ horribly. With a snarl so evil it could have come from a Grimm, he tore the chainsaw off his back and ripped the cord out, igniting the engine. "I've wanted to kill a Schnee for so long," he hissed. "I've been dreaming of this moment!"

Jaune couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Bane…?"

"RARGH!"

He moved like a man possessed, carving his weapon down into the ground as Weiss ducked back. She was faster, but his ferocity was unmatched and he yanked the weapon back up, ripping concrete free and chasing after her. Weiss ducked the next swing, but only barely, and she was almost caught by his other hand, reaching for her hair.

"Weiss!" Ruby yelled, ignoring him and running off to support her teammate.

He'd gone mad. This wasn't the Bane he knew. Even what he said and how he said it, speaking slowly and menacingly, was far away from the quiet and mostly silent giant he'd become used to. _What the hell is going on? This is terrible._

A honk came from the left. Jaune jumped, then saw Tukson hanging out the door of a lorry. With Ruby and Weiss busy with Bane and Yang now under attack from both Trifa and Yuma at once, he was free to scurry over, sheathing Crocea Mors once more.

"Managed to hotwire this," Tukson explained. "We've got to get out of here before more of them arrive."

"Right." Getting away from this disaster sounded perfect. "I'll grab Deery, you get Perry."

Between the two of them they managed to haul their unconscious allies away, Tukson pulling Perry by his hands and Jaune carrying Deery over one shoulder, her face bouncing against his back. They were both the worse for wear, but neither was bleeding badly. Perry had a split lip and some blood on his chin, but it looked to be from his lip and nose. Deery was in better condition but wasn't waking up anytime toon.

With them stored away in the back, the real challenge came from extracting the others. Bane was going to be the hardest, if they could even calm him down. The faunus was currently wrecking his way through the melee, not actually _harming_ any of the huntresses, but fighting with such reckless abandon that neither of them wanted to risk their heads getting in close. They were trying to wear him out from a distance, but it didn't look like Bane was running out of steam at all.

"Try and find a way to get the message to Yuma and Trifa," Jaune said. "I'll find Ilia."

Tukson looked less than pleased with the orders but nodded anyway, no doubt knowing it would be easier to get the message to the people fighting two on one against the blonde than to Ilia, fighting a huntress one on one. He rushed in while Jaune ducked back around toward the containers, tracing the path he'd taken before.

The whole night was a bust. Their plan to stop Torchwick was in tatters and they'd now gotten in a fight with some of the good guys, which was going to look all kinds of bad. If that wasn't bad enough, Bane was tearing open the sides of cargo containers, spilling the very dust they'd planned to save onto the ground.

_We'll sort that later. Let's just get out of this in one piece._

He arrived in time to see Ilia and Blake locked not in a battle nor even a passionate reunion, but an… argument…? They were _still_ facing off as they had been when he left them, albeit the occasional chip and mark on the floor suggested _some_ fighting. They were yelling at one another when he arrived, Blake easily the loudest.

"The White Fang was becoming no better than the Grimm! Killing, murder and execution of prisoners. What was next? Were they going to slaughter children?"

"We killed people who tried to kill us back! You can't expect us to risk our lives taking prisoners when they're not granting us the same. And it's a bit much to jump to slaughtering children, Blake. Adam wasn't _that_ bad."

"It was only a matter of time."

"So what, the best option was just to run? Oh wow. Great. _That'll_ protect all those children."

"I had to find my own way."

"The only thing you've found is the moral high ground!"

"I'm going to change the system!"

"You joined a school!" Ilia yelled. "How is that going to change _anything_!?"

"At least I'm trying!"

Jaune swallowed but forced himself to step between them. "Ladies. Ladies."

"What?"

"Get out the way, Jaune."

"This isn't any of your business."

"Blake needs to apologise."

"You must be joking!"

The shouting continued over the top of him, vitriol thrown left and right as he waved his hands in a futile attempt to stop it. They weren't even paying attention to him. Better than fighting, sure, but it all kind of worked to Beacon's advantage since they'd have reinforcements coming to help them out. He doubted she'd planned it that way, but Blake was keeping Ilia distracted.

"Ilia, we need to-"

An explosion came from his last location, throwing a huge plume of smoke up into the air.

Ilia and Blake both ducked, ready to jump away from an attack before realising it wasn't aimed at them. As one, their eyes turned to him, demanding an explanation. Jaune sighed morosely, already knowing this would end poorly.

"What have you done…?" Blake whispered.

"Me? Honestly, very little. I've pretty much just run back and forth- Okay, I _did_ kill Adam, but trust me, I get enough from _him_ about that."

"Ruby!" Blake rushed past him without listening to a word he said. "Yang. Weiss. I'm coming!"

"Aaand I'm being ignored again. You know what, I'm okay with that. Ilia, we need to get out of here fast. Bane has gone insane, Deery and Perry are out cold and I've no idea how long Trifa and Yuma can hold."

"Wait, Bane has…?"

"You can see for yourself. Come on."

The docks were partially on fire by the time they got back. Thick smoke billowed up from several smouldering containers, wreathing the area in smog that helped conceal Jaune and Ilia's approach visibly, but didn't do much to hide their loud coughing.

"Okay. It wasn't this bad a second ago. This is probably a sign that I was right to not let anyone pilot the mega death robot…"

"RARGH!" Bane howled from the smoke. "SCHNEEEE!"

"Especially Bane."

Tukson, Trifa and Yuma appeared from the left, Yuma and Trifa looking worse for wear but still a lot more functional than anyone else. That there were no members of Team RWBY chasing them made Jaune's heart skip a beat.

"Has Bane killed them…?"

"No." Trifa answered with a look back. "The only one he's managed to hit so far is the blonde and she was able to tank it. The others aren't getting close to him since he's gone full berserker. They're taking shots from range."

"They could easily take him four on one," Yuma said. "He's not exactly huntsman level, just going wild and swinging like a madman. But I don't think they want to take the risk of getting close, especially not when he's ripping open dust containers left and right."

That was their chance to get out then. Jaune directed them to the truck and they all hurried over, clambering into the back while Jaune looked back out into the scene of desolation. Lisa could find her own way out most likely – if she hadn't already – but if they left now, Bane was doomed. They might even kill him to prevent more damage. If he didn't kill himself with all that dust.

_No one would blame me for leaving him. He's gone insane._

Yuma gripped his shoulder. "What do we do?"

"Tukson…" Jaune sighed. "Let's go."

/-/

Ruby couldn't help but feel everything had gone awfully wrong awfully fast. What was supposed to be a heroic entrance into stopping a robbery had swiftly descended not only into Torchwick escaping, but them looking like idiots and then being dragged into a protracted fight that _started out easy_ but quickly descended into a nightmare.

With her Semblance, she easily skirted away from the wild faunus swinging a chainsaw. He wasn't quick or even very skilled with it, but a good hit let him rip through metal and she didn't want to try her luck in close.

More than that, she was afraid of opening fire now with so much loose dust around. What if she missed and hit a container? Her rounds would pierce right through the metal with a lovely shower of sparks and then boom, up goes the entire area. Yang had obvious realised the same and was staying far out of melee to prevent her own Semblance going off. A big gout of Yang's typical fiery Semblance would seal their fates. That only left Blake and Weiss capable of fighting in melee, and while Blake could probably do so, Weiss was a no go because the man kept howling her name and going after her.

"We need to draw him away from all the dust," Ruby called. Weiss nodded to show she'd heard and, as his main target, immediately began to backtrack out toward the open water. It wasn't exactly what Ruby had meant, but at least his chainsaw wouldn't work out there.

_Weiss lures him to the edge and we can knock him in. It should work._

"Everyone get to the dock!" she yelled. It didn't really matter if the faunus heard her since he was way too into the idea of killing Weiss to care.

Blake and Yang broke off and followed her order, sprinting through the containers and out into the much more open space where the ships would settle in and forklifts would take the containers to the storage zone. The monstrous faunus rushed out after them, clearing the dust containers and swinging his chainsaw in the open air.

_Perfect._ Ruby glanced back and saw Weiss balanced on the water's edge, one foot on one of the raised bollards there.

"Over here." Weiss raised her rapier. "You want to kill a Schnee? Come and try."

"Schnee!"

Hook, line and sinker.

The faunus charged in, completely ignoring the three of them and charging down Weiss. Seeing him coming a mile away, Weiss stepped up onto the bollard and leapt back, sacrificing her dignity to take a swim if it meant putting this guy out of action. She splashed down into the water and it honestly looked as though the faunus would go right in after her.

"_**This vehicle is reversing. This vehicle is reversing. This vehicle is reversing!"**_

Ruby turned to the loud, beeping voice and froze.

That vehicle was indeed reversing. This, she could agree with. It was reversing quite fast and right for her face, the back door open and several White Fang knelt there with panicked expressions.

"_**This vehicle is reversing!"**_

"Eep."

Death by a reversing vehicle. That was kinda lame.

"Ruby!"

Yang tackled her aside, knocking them both out the path of the speeding truck going backwards, its tyres screeching on the concrete as it looped around and drove on by, blaring mechanically about the fact it was reversing the whole time.

It skidded past Blake as well, almost clipping her, before it finished its path – _slamming straight into their own ally!?_

The faunus buckled, the lip of the truck catching his knees. He was so tall that instead of being swept under, he was knocked back, crashing into the back of the truck and dropping his chainsaw. Numerous hands gripped his uniform and hauled him inside, while one dragged the metal grill down and locked it. The truck hadn't even stopped moving yet and was skidding perilously toward the edge.

Gears clunked. Something _grinded_ horribly. The tyres screeched and smoke billowed from under before the thing came to a stop, lurched sickly and then punched away, tearing past the burning containers and Yang and Ruby.

"Stop them!" Blake yelled, firing Gambol Shroud for its tyres. The thing was moving too fast to get a decent shot off and Crescent Rose had been knocked aside when Yang saved her. No longer reversing or boasting about the fact, the truck tore through a chain link fence, ripping it down, and then tore away into Vale.

Well. There went their victory…

"What's happening?" Weiss yelled from the water. "I can't see anything. Is it over? Did we win?"

A nearby dust container, deciding it'd had enough, went up like a firework.

"That doesn't sound like winning..."

/-/

Team RWBY filtered slowly into the headmaster's office, heads down.

Ozpin was not sat behind his desk but stood, and somehow that distinction made it all the worse. The elevator doors closed behind them, Miss Goodwitch standing there with her arms crossed, expression thunderous.

"Quite the interesting evening you've all had."

They each flinched. The casual tone was worse than being yelled at in part because it hinted at so much more. Ruby's feet shuffled on the floor as she wished a hole would open and swallow her.

"I believe I was quite clear when I instructed Miss Belladonna to leave things to the proper authorities. Did I somehow misspeak?"

"…"

"That was a question, Miss Belladonna. It requires an answer."

"The authorities weren't-"

"Ah. Ah. Ah." He stopped her. "That was not my question."

"No," Blake whispered. "You didn't misspeak."

"Hm. I thought not. Curious, then, that you went and ignored me." He moved to his chair and sat but refrained from offering them the same courtesy. "The damage is extensive but can be repaid. The material damage, that is. The damage to Beacon's reputation will take longer to heal."

"Reputation?" Weiss asked, confused.

"I am of course referring to this." Ozpin clicked on his terminal and projected the scene, a paused video that featured all four members of Team RWBY on the roof, Blake holding Jaune Arc hostage. Their mouths fell open but it only got worse when Ozpin pressed play.

"_R-Racist? I'm not racist!"_

Ruby cringed as they listened to Blake argue with the others, all the while seeing her, Yang and Weiss linger awkwardly nearby while – and it was clearer now – Roman Torchwick _handily stole all the dust_ in the background.

They'd let themselves be distracted.

The video continued, showing the full argument, the moment where Blake released her prisoner and accidentally knocked him off the roof and more. The person with the camera, who Ruby vaguely remembered forgetting about since they hadn't had a weapon drawn, crawled to the roof's edge and continued to record everything. The fighting, the damage and the escape.

"It's edited!" Weiss snapped at one scene. "It doesn't show that madman going off and trying to kill me!"

"I'm sure it is," Ozpin said easily. "A simple cut here and a cut there to remove instances of their culpability and highlight your own. It's rather well edited, a professional job, and I can guarantee it will be on every news station in Vale by tomorrow morning." He turned the video off. "In the end, it doesn't really matter if it's real or not. I shall spare you the comments below but rest assured that people are currently arguing over whether you are racist, violent or merely incompetent. You may pick which you like the sound of more."

They all winced.

"And added onto that, whether _we_ are incompetent or lacking in how we have taught you." That earned another round of guilty expressions. "Your actions naturally reflect on us, and actions such as this don't reflect well – I can assure you of that. I moved quickly to express my support and claim you acted to protect the dust, but I didn't expect there to be video evidence suggesting you allowed Torchwick to escape." Ozpin sighed. "Now _I_ look like I'm trying to corrupt evidence to protect myself when I merely believed in you and your team. Thank you for that."

"S-Sir-"

"No." He held up a hand. "I think that it would be best for you to keep your comments to a minimum, Miss Rose. Rest assured, you will not be expelled. Your actions – reckless, foolish and downright incompetent as they are – were not done with ill intention in mind. You will, however, be punished. Glynda?"

"Detention with me for a month, community service on the docks, a curfew on your team, a press statement that you _will read out_ to the local news. Worry not, we shall write it for you. Beyond that, Miss Belladonna will be attending a racial sensitivity course."

Blake hesitated. "A what…?"

"It's a course designed to help people understand and combat their unconscious prejudice," Ozpin answered.

"I'm not-!"

"Enough." He stopped her with a wave of his hand. "It's decided and I don't honestly care what you think. I truly believe what you said was an accident, but that doesn't change what we need to do to combat that image. You _will_ be attending this course and you _will_ be happy about it."

They could have easily expelled them. "We're grateful," Ruby said quickly. "And Blake will do the course."

"But I-"

"We'll make sure of it," Yang echoed, wrapping a hand over Blake's mouth.

"Good. You're dismissed and your curfew begins now. Glynda, please see them to their rooms."

Team RWBY sulkily made their way out. As soon as the elevator began to descent, a crow that had been sitting on the windowsill hopped inside and transformed into a grown man. It reached for and drank heavily from a hip flask.

"Well," Qrow said. "That could have gone a lot better. I kinda feel sorry for them."

"As do I, but not enough to let them off after this debacle." The headmaster massaged his temples. "You were told to keep an eye on them. Were you there?"

"I was."

"And yet you didn't intervene?"

"It never looked necessary. They had everything under control," he added before Ozpin could get angry. "The White Fang weren't prepared for them and they struck hard and fast. Half of them didn't look capable of fighting back, Arc included. There was no need for me to step in."

"Incapable of fighting?" Ozpin frowned. "Or unwilling. This may well have been a trap set for us, which would explain their reluctance to fight back…"

"If so, it's one we walked right into." Qrow took a seat and lounged on it. Despite his lackadaisical tone, it was clear he was upset about his nieces getting in trouble. "I should have intervened," he said. "I just didn't see the need and didn't really spot the one taking the video. The action was all down below and I was more focused on making sure none of them got hurt. I thought it better to preserve the secret of my involvement."

"Understandable. It may even have been for the best. I can't imagine how much worse this would be if you were involved, let alone caught transforming from a bird. How did it go so bad?"

"One of the White Fang lost their shit. The video _was_ cut like the girl said. He wasn't any more an equal for the girls, but he was indiscriminate and kept causing more and more damage. It was a recipe for disaster and they knew it. The team tried to lure him out and away from all that dust, but that opened up a chance for the White Fang to escape."

"And Roman…?"

"He fled early on. To be honest, Oz, it really did feel like him and the White Fang were at odds. I got a full view of the scene before the girls struck and the White Fang were moving in on him. That wasn't two factions working together. It was an ambush."

"Vying over dust? Or something more…"

"Whatever the case," Qrow said, "We stuck out foot in it and came out looking like idiots."

"Yes. I'll be dealing with the fallout for a few days at least." Ozpin sighed. "I expect the White Fang will lay low as well, but I cannot guarantee anything. What he may lack in combat, our foe more than makes up for in PR. He's exposed corrupt businessmen, saved workers under contracts that left them as slaves and now been caught trying to foil a robbery. If this keeps up, people are going to start asking why we need the _White Fang_ to do all this for us."

"Maybe we should fight fire with fire?" Qrow suggested.

"That is a-" Ozpin froze. "Wait. You mean a PR push?"

"Uh. Maybe? I was just throwing an idea out; I don't know anything about tha-"

"No. No. The idea has merit. More than I ever thought." Ozpin already had a notepad out and was scratching on it. "The White Fang are trying to earn the trust of people by being seen doing good. If we run around trying to stop them, of course we're going to look terrible. We need to beat them at their own game."

"Out-good them?" Qrow asked. "I mean, that shouldn't be hard, right? We're huntsmen. We save lives all the time."

"Not enough. Saving lives is valuable but not public, and most of that takes place outside the walls. Out of sight, out of mind. It needs to be work done within the city. We need something to show off. A symbol – or symbols. Something people can look up to."

"What you're describing is basically a comic book superhero," Qrow said with a laugh.

Ozpin looked up, eyes wide.

"Oz, no. Oz, no, no, no."

"People love their heroes, Qrow."

"Ozpin. We can't dress you up in a cape and spandex and have you bust villains."

"Not quite what I meant. The theory is sound, though. Someone to stand as a beacon of the good we can do. A central figure, or figures, that can represent us, much like how many are now calling Jaune Arc the new face of the White Fang, we need a new face of Beacon."

"Hm. That doesn't sound too bad. So, it's like a mascot?"

"Sort of. They'd have to be seen to do good – it would be a hard task, and they'd also be in the spotlight, so plenty of public speaking and interviews. It's not an _easy_ task by any means. We may need assistance from professionals in image and marketing."

"Isn't the Nikos girl basically a perfect fit for that?"

"She would be, but Glynda informs me she has been steadfastly avoiding any such attention. I fear she might refuse such a plan and it's not entirely fair to force her. On the other hand, we already have a PR mess to clean up, so why not kill two birds with one stone."

It took Qrow a second to figure that one out. "Team RWBY!?"

"Everyone loves a redemption story, and they're already scheduled for community service. We shall build them into our anti-White Fang taskforce."

"Isn't that basically rewarding them, though? Especially the edgy one?"

"I think you misunderstand." Ozpin smiled deviously. "They will not be _fighting_ the White Fang through traditional means, and I doubt Miss Belladonna will appreciate what this entails." He pressed a button in his intercom. "Oobleck, can you summon Miss Adel to my office? Be sure to inform her she's in no trouble. I have need of her services."

* * *

**What nefarious scheme does Ozpin have up his sleeve with the perfidious Coco Adel? **

**Well, this fight went by quick. I wanted to keep it such because despite Jaune and Co being a fairly big squad, their combat prowess is… well. It's the Mountain Glenn train. Deery is the girl who pushes her head through the hatch and is basically knocked out. Perry is the guy with glasses who doesn't even rank against them. Bane is the chainsaw dude who admittedly does give Weiss some small pause, but hardly ranks on her level.**

**Yuma and Trifa… I like to think they're tougher, but even then on the level of a **_**first-year**_** student just starting out. Like, the level that Team RWBY would have been at during the docks scenes in the show, before they'd had a lot of time to gel and get stronger. Ilia is probably the strongest and I'm not even sure she was on Blake's skill level.**

**They're not going to be fighting Team RWBY equally. Here, Team RWBY backed off from Bane out of caution and a desire to mitigate risk.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 31****st**** March – THREE WEEKS**

I have my expo and speech and stuff going on in two weeks, so there will be no updates from the 23rd – 29th March. As this would normally fall into that, I'm pushing it back a week, which means the next chapter of this will come the week after.

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	11. Chapter 11

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing **_**my**_** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 11**

* * *

Team RWBY had no idea how to react as Coco Adel strutted back and forth before them, hand clasping her chin and eyes darting up and down their bodies. Every now and then she would pause, hum and lean in to stare into their faces, shake her head and move on. Back and forth, again and again, with Ozpin and Glynda stood in the background, one drinking coffee and the other jotting down notes on a clipboard.

The summons had come in the morning and made it clear they were free from lessons but had to attend in the auditorium. Ruby assumed it was so they could be made to do the community service or practice the speech thing they were meant to give as an apology, but that didn't explain why Coco was here and marching left and right like a drill sergeant.

As the team leader, it fell to her to pose the big question.

"Um. W-Why are-"

"Don't stutter." Coco clicked her fingers in front of Ruby's nose, making her jump. "You're the team leader, that means your word goes. If you're gonna say something, say it like you mean it."

"O-Okay." Her stammer earned a raised eyebrow and Ruby swallowed, firming herself and nodding. "Okay!"

"Better. There's hope for you yet."

"I _think_ Ruby was asking what this is all about," Weiss snapped. "Perhaps we can have an explanation?"

"No. No. No." Coco shook her head and pointed at Weiss. "Too whiny. Too entitled. Too smarmy."

Weiss puffed up. "Excuse me!?"

"That's what I mean. You have the posh accent down, but you're making it sound too entitled, like you expect everyone to bow over and answer your every question just because you're you. The sophisticated angle can be appealing in moderation but go too far and you come across arrogant." Coco waved a hand behind her. "Big G, make a note."

"Noted." Glynda remarked, pen scratching on her clipboard. "And if you call me `Big G` again I shall flay the skin from your body and feed it to the Beowolves."

"I am not entitled!" Weiss roared.

"And now that you don't get your way, you start shouting."

Coco's flat point blew the wind out of Weiss' sails and left Yang sniggering. Ruby tried not to herself, but it was kinda true. Weiss wasn't all that bad when you got to know her, but she did act like she expected everyone to do what she said, often without realising it.

"I can see the angle." Coco used both hands to make a frame between her fingers and thumbs, which she aimed at Weiss. "There's potential there. A refined high lady type. Problem is, it's buried. Gonna take time to dig that out."

Weiss silently fumed.

"Not that I don't enjoy watching Weiss be dragged down a peg or two, but what is this all about?" Yang asked. "We didn't exactly get much warning."

"Full figure, long hair, cocky smile, sex appeal." Coco pointed two fingers at Yang and winked. "I can work with you."

Yang returned the gesture. "Ayyy. You know it, girl."

"Ahem." Ozpin stepped forward. "Not to interrupt your little moment, ladies, but I shall explain the situation for the rest of Team RWBY. Since the four of you have already shown a clear interest in interfering with the White Fang and their business, a worrying proclivity for breaking school rules and a reckless disregard for your safety and your general surroundings, we have decided to add to your punishment."

"I thought you said it was just community service," Ruby whispered.

"What was that, Miss Rose? I couldn't hear you over the sound of everyone in Vale asking me why four of my students burned down the docks and millions of lien in dust." He made a show of wriggling a finger in his ear. "What were you saying? Something helpful no doubt."

"N-Never mind…"

"That's what I thought. Now, I initially planned to bar you from ever encroaching on the White Fang again, but I've a feeling that order would go ignored."

Ruby, Weiss and Yang all turned to stare at the final member of their team, who crossed her arms defiantly and refused to speak. Yep, that was pretty much confirmation. Hard not to be when they'd already seen Blake poring over newspaper reports when they woke up. She had bags under her eyes already, suggesting she hadn't gotten any sleep.

"Instead of making an order I know you'll disobey, we've instead decided to enable you in the battle against the White Fang."

Ruby's jaw dropped. "What!?"

"You have?" Blake asked suspiciously. "What's the catch?"

"I have. And the catch, Miss Belladonna, is that you will not be _fighting_ them traditionally. Glynda."

Miss Goodwitch strode forward and typed something into her scroll, causing a holographic image of a guy their age to appear before them using the same technology shown on the Bullhead they'd arrived in Beacon on. He was tall, blond and had blue eyes and a shy, almost goofy smile.

Hard not to recognise him when his face was plastered over the news, especially the news slating their team as reckless, inconsiderate and violent huntresses with no regard for safety, property or the peace. Worse, those self-same stories were drawing attention to how the White Fang had barely even fought back in the attack, painting them as bullies and the White Fang victims trying to stop Torchwick.

_It's fake, though. They didn't show that maniac faunus trying to kill Weiss…_

"This is Jaune Arc," Ozpin said. "New and current leader of the White Fang in Vale, and as of this morning, pooling more popularity than your team."

"He's a criminal!" Weiss shouted.

"He is, but then so is Roman Torchwick and he's still managed to portray himself a gentleman thief. Do you know why that is?" He waited for an answer, but no one ventured. "It is because he follows a set of codes that conduct his behaviour. He remains honest, he honours any deals he makes, he limits casualties and only steals from those wealthy enough to afford it. Hardly the best of ideals, I admit, but it means the average person in Vale doesn't have to worry about being shanked by him in a dark alley and lends an air of mystique."

He was still a crook, though – and he'd not been afraid to chuck a dust explosive her way on that rooftop. _Though I did attack him,_ she thought, cringing. While she didn't regret that, she was starting to wonder if maybe all of it could have been avoided by not making the first move.

"Roman is a clever man who knows that image is sometimes just as important as results, and it would seem that Jaune Arc is cut from the same cloth. His charitable efforts won him a chance and his actions in bringing a corrupt business to justice forced people to look at him differently. His latest attempt to _stop_ a dust robbery only compounded that, and your interference, no matter how justified, has allowed him to pivot and show himself the wounded party."

"But they're not," Weiss hissed. "They're White Fang and that _psycho_ tried to kill me."

"Miss Schnee, we are aware of that," Glynda said brusquely. "But that only proves the headmaster's point. Even if they still have murderous impulses and even if they still are violent, their leader's first focus was to edit that out the video and go on a PR blitz against us."

"Thank you, Glynda. PR blitz is a good term for it. We're looking like fools while they appear the mistreated heroes, and that kind of sentiment is dangerous. They are dangerous."

"I've been saying that for weeks," Blake argued. "This whole charade is just that – a façade!"

"No one is disagreeing with you, Miss Belladonna, but a façade must still be torn down before we move on the White Fang proper. They have chosen to engage us on a field of public opinion instead of force of arms. This is a wise move on his part; they can't hope to best Beacon in force of arms or combat ability. They _can_ in the court of public opinion."

Ruby raised a hand.

"Yes Miss Rose?"

"Is it really that bad? I mean, they still broke the law so can't we just stop them anyway?"

"Miss Schnee. Would you care to answer this one?"

Weiss sighed and Ruby felt her heart drop, knowing from that noise alone that there'd be no escaping this. "The headmaster is right, Ruby. Brand can make or break a company. The SDC's is one of the worst on Remnant so I'd know. The only reason my father gets away with it all is because there aren't enough competitors to challenge him."

"Brand, marketing and PR," Ozpin said. "Done well, you can get away with murder. Handle it poorly and you may find yourself faced with a rebellion. That's an extreme example," he admitted when they all looked alarmed. "I doubt anyone will be marching on Beacon with torches and pitchforks, but the point remains. The more we try and brute force the White Fang away, the more we appear the villains. That wouldn't be so much a problem if we could take them down in one go, but you can _never_ take a terrorist group down in a single battle. That's just not how they work. They burrow down and it can take years to root them out."

"And the White Fang recruits on volunteers," Yang realised. "Meaning the better they look, the more recruits they get, and the more we try and force them down, the more we turn faunus against us. Sheesh. That's bad."

Ozpin nodded. "I'm glad to see you understand."

Personally, Ruby didn't. They were bad guys. Bad guys should be stopped. That was just how the world was – or how it _should_ be if it wasn't. Sure, it was a black and white view, but some things were supposed to be black and white. Criminality was one of those things. You either obeyed the law and were a good guy, or you broke it and became the bad guy.

_Ugh. Why couldn't we have stayed with fighting Grimm? Those are easier to understand…_

"You want us to be a part of the PR blitz," Weiss said. "Why us?"

"Why not you?" Ozpin countered. "The heiress of the SDC, an ex-White Fang member, the youngest huntress to join Beacon in a generation and… Miss Xiao-Long."

"Oi! Why didn't I get a title!?"

"Even aside from those things, you're the team who is most currently in the public eye thanks to your actions. Act, and people shall take notice. The cameras are focused on you. It's a redemption story and those, Team RWBY, are appealing."

"And why is…?" Yang waved to Coco.

"Miss Adel is here because she is Beacon's resident expert on all matters PR. Or maybe it'd be more accurate to say she's our expert image consultant."

"You know it, kids." Coco struck a confident pose, shades pushed down her nose. Ruby had to admit she looked good and acted the part. Even not knowing much about fashion, she could see that. "No one in Beacon knows more about making a statement than me. Under my tutelage, you'll all be whipped into shape."

Ruby swallowed. "T-Tutelage…?"

"From now on, Miss Adel is in command of Operation Shining Light."

"Shining…?"

"Light…?"

"Yes." Ozpin looked around. "Because we're shining the light on the White Fang? And this is Beacon – the tower, like a lighthouse…? It's a good name." No one knew quite how to respond to that one. "Well _I_ think it's a good name and I'm the headmaster, so it's Operation Shining Light. Miss Adel is to be considered a teacher in any way that matters. You will follow her orders or you shall be answering to Glynda. Am I understood?"

"Yes."

"Yeah…"

"Yes sir."

Ozpin didn't even react to their words. He was focused solely on Blake.

To be fair, Ruby didn't blame him.

"This is stupid," Blake said. "We're playing into their hands."

"We have to, Miss Belladonna, because right now we're being _led around_ by his hand. Better to beat him at his own game than do nothing and let him get away with it. You may wish to bring him low and force his surrender, but I ought to remind you that _force_ is what caused the White Fang to fail in the first place."

Blake's head whipped back. "I… we…"

"Violence does not solve everything. In fact, and aside from the Grimm, it solves precious little. The White Fang under Adam achieved nothing of note in Vale. Under Mr Arc, in less than a month, it has already captured the front page _three days in a row_." He let that sink in for a moment of stunned silence. "I will be frank with you, Team RWBY. We need to address this issue. I'm not blind and I do believe the White Fang has nefarious aims in mind. However Mr Arc acts, the White Fang is still run by Sienna, a confirmed anti-human supremacist. We _must_ prevent them gaining a foothold in Vale."

"I'm in," Blake snapped, eyes closed. "I… I'll do whatever I have to."

"Thank you. I don't expect any of you to enjoy this any more than I am, but we do what we must. Rest assured you'll be given credit for any lessons missed and you'll also be rewarded for this. Try not to see it as a punishment so much as an opportunity to learn a specialist skillset."

Ruby smiled weakly, not at all convinced but willing to try. If it meant exposing the White Fang and protecting people, then so be it. As long as Coco didn't expect her to do any public speaking, it'd be fine.

"Very good. I shall leave you to Miss Adel."

Well, that didn't sound too bad.

/-/

"IMAGE! Say it with passion!"

"Image," Ruby chimed. She was the only one to do so. Weiss, Yang and Blake refused to play along, scowling or crossing their arms in defiance. "Guys, come on," she pled. "We promised we'd work with Coco on this."

"Damn straight you did. You realise I can give you detention, right?"

Yang sighed and caved. "Image…"

"This is stupid," Blake said. "Why does shouting `image` help us understand anything?"

"I already know a lot about image and marketing," Weiss argued.

"Oh, really." Coco strode up to the projection of Jaune Arc. "Alright, then. Tell me, what's the most important image decision he's made so far? What stands out as his crowning achievement? Not you, Rose, Xiao-Long. I want the sulking twosome to answer."

Yang shrugged and came over to stand next to her. It seemed like Coco just wanted to make a point that they should listen to her, but Blake was too sure of her knowledge in the White Fang and Weiss too proud to listen. It was her being made team leader all over again, except now Weiss was expected to listen to another person as well.

"It's his first attack," Weiss decided. "He chose an obviously corrupt target so there was no chance anyone could claim the White Fang were in the wrong."

"Hm. Interesting." Coco gave nothing away. "And you, Edgy Spice?"

"Don't call me that. And his crowning achievement is getting the newspapers on side. People are stupid and will believe whatever they're told if the newspapers tell them to. They're convincing people the White Fang can be trusted."

"Corrupt targets and newspaper support. Are those your final answers?"

Blake and Weiss exchanged a look and a nod.

"Bzzzt! Wrong!" Coco sashayed over to the projection and pointed to Jaune's head. "This is his greatest achievement – and the fact you can't see it is proof why you need to learn more about image."

In her teammates' defence, Ruby couldn't see it either.

"His face?" Yang asked. "I mean, he's not ugly but I wouldn't say he was good looking either…"

"Not his sex appeal – though that can work for you girls. We'll get back to that later."

"Wait, what?" Ruby squeaked.

"His greatest and most effective decision is the fact you can see his face at all. Think about it. Up until now, the White Fang have hidden their faces behind masks shaped like Grimm, telling the world they're violent monsters akin to the Grimm themselves. Do you know why they did that?"

"Y-You said something about sex appeal. What did you mean?"

"Intimidation," Blake grumbled.

"Correct!" Coco ignored Ruby and pointed to Blake. "Intimidation was the name of the game, but by shirking his mask – and the horrible connotations of it – not only does he avoid those same comparisons, but he offers out a hand of trust. He says `I'm not some faceless monster, but a person just like anyone else. Get to know me. Judge me and see what kind of person I am`." Coco waved her hand through the projection. "It's genius. It means that the White Fang suddenly has a face and a name to go with it, so when they do something nice out in Vale – or if they get attacked by you lot – it's not faceless, violent White Fang getting their asses kicked. It's that lovely and sweet Jaune boy who helps the homeless faunus down by the shelters."

"Sympathy," Weiss realised. "Empathy."

"Precisely. You can't empathise with someone in a mask, but you can when he loses it. Course, that's dangerous too – he throws away any chance of anonymity. But if you're determined enough to take that risk, you can reap the benefits. That is why his crowning achievement isn't in what he's done or who he's won over, but how he started it all. Exposed. Visible. Honest."

"Or he just never saw the point of a mask because we knew his identity from day one," Yang said.

"Or that," Coco allowed, "But do you really think it'll be something that stupid?"

Ruby watched the holographic man's face as it came back into focus. Now that Coco had pointed it out, she started to notice things. He was smiling. Not confidently or grinning, but a shy little smile that made her feel at ease. It made him look funny, even approachable. Was that on purpose? It might have been, and it took away from any chance of seeing him as an evil terrorist.

_I'm falling for it as well,_ she thought, awe and shock mixing in her head. _Even if I know he's a murderer, I can't help but think he doesn't look all that bad. _

It was an eye-opening experience, and the more she thought about it, the more examples came to mind. Miss Goodwitch dressed and acted like a teacher who wouldn't take any time wasting, and you could tell from the first time you saw her. Was that what imaging was, choosing how to send a message?

On the opposite end, Cardin Winchester had terrible imaging. He wore big armour and tried to portray a macho image, but bullying Velvet – a girl much smaller than him – only made him look like a thug. Cardin was a huntsman, someone who was skilled and likely ready to give his life to protect innocent people no matter his views on faunus, and yet _he_ looked like the meanie while the current leader of the White Fang – a literal terrorist – looked like a misunderstood hero.

"It's real," she breathed. "He really is doing the PR thingie!"

"Huh?" Yang looked back. "Ruby?"

"And we fell for it. We fell for his trap and made Beacon look like idiots!"

"You sure did, Red. You sure did." Coco smiled. "But don't worry, we'll be working on fixing that – and fast. First things first, image. Second, action."

"Action?" Weiss asked.

"Ah. Ah. In order. Action with a bad image just makes us look bad. I'm going to typecast you quickly." Coco stabbed a finger at Yang. "You're the hot and athletic one. Brash, confident and saucy. Got it? Your job is to appeal to hormonal boys and girls that want to be like you."

Yang blinked but didn't look upset. "Okay…?"

"No. Not `okay` with a question mark. Be spunky. Be assertive. Be a badass." Coco lowered her shades. "You need sunglasses. Aviators. You need to be the cockiest bitch out there. Show me your best killer smile."

"Like this?" Yang asked, smiling brightly.

"No. Not your _friendly smile_. I want a smile that says you're a badass bitch who's gonna take 'em for a ride. Smug, sexy and cocky. Like this." Coco leaned forward, one hand on her hip. Had she not been wearing a sweater she might have shown cleavage, but even without, the saucy smile she gave had Ruby heating up.

"Oh right." Yang grinned again, this time all teeth and almost vicious. As she did, she ran a hand through her hair, sticking her chest out. Winking once, she blew a kiss at Coco.

"Perfect! Sex and danger, all in one."

"Should she really be trying for sex appeal?" Weiss asked. "Yang is seventeen."

"She's also a huntress and people are as people are. No use us complaining about it." Coco rounded on her. "And the thing is, we're not asking you to change. This is just the image you're giving off on the job. You can be yourselves in private."

Ruby wondered if Coco knew that Yang _was_ like this in private.

"Weiss, you're the refined and noble type. I want measured speech, solid posture and critical eye gestures. Yeah, like that." Coco nodded, apparently not realising Weiss was glaring hatefully at her. "We need to work on your temper, though. You're a whiny little bitch."

"How dare you!"

"See? Honestly, you're not all that whiny – I just said that to tick you off – but what you _are_ is quick to anger. That's fine, but you can't afford to show it. Refined kind of relies on the idea of having good control of your temper. You don't look refined when you're red-faced and spitting. You look stupid."

Weiss struggled for control. "Are you saying I should ignore when someone so blatantly insults me?"

"No. Get angry. Be angry. I don't care what you feel, just don't _show_ it. You're meant to be the aloof, intelligent `above it all` type. Who cares if the idiots are insulting you? They're idiots. Ignore them. Or if you can't, bottle it up and rant to _me_ about it later, but for now the best thing you can do to get back at them is ignore it. Don't be baited."

"I… Yes." Weiss sighed, eyes closed. "I can see your point and I'll admit my temper is something to work on. You're not going to demand I change my outfit or my hair? I expected more demands to be honest…"

"We can work on wardrobe later. This is basics." Coco waved a hand. "And to be honest, you all have the wardrobes down anyway for the most part. It'd be a change if I had to make Blake into the refined type and you into the sexy type, but that's just making hard work for ourselves." Turning, Coco grinned. "And now for our resident faunus."

Blake stared back defiantly.

"First things first, you're losing the bow."

"I refuse."

"That's cute. It wasn't a request, though." Coco waited but the bow remained in place. "Fine, we'll do this the hard way. What do you really think hiding your ears is doing for you? Your team knows. Hell, I knew – and I bet every faunus in Beacon can tell, too. Who wears a bow in their hair nowadays? Seriously, who? You're either from period Vale or you're hiding something and news flash – the name `Belladonna` is kind of known to all faunus everywhere."

Ruby blinked. "It is?"

"Your family is famous?" Yang asked.

"I did think it sounded familiar," Weiss mumbled.

"Oh my _God_, you four are idiots! Fine, none of you know world politics. That's cool. Thing is, you're not really fooling many people. What you're doing is making people think you're either ashamed to be faunus, or _afraid_ to show it. Neither of those angles is good for image purposes. Are you?" she asked. "Ashamed or afraid, I mean."

"No. I… I'm proud of who I am."

"Good. You should be. Nothing wrong with being faunus and plenty _good_ about being strong enough to put up with the crap they get put through." Coco grinned her way. "Thing is, there's a lot of faunus who are afraid, and with good reason. Having a strong faunus role model to look up to could do them a lot of good, especially when the only other role model right now is the White Fang themselves."

Blake hesitated for a long moment, before slowly reaching up her hair. The bow slid back, revealing two perfectly shaped feline ears that blended in with the black hair around them. They twitched and flicked, and she somehow looked more real, at least to her. Ruby smiled, liking Blake more with her ears out than hidden away.

"You look good, girl. My partner tried to hide her ears too – under a beret no less. Can you imagine?"

Ruby looked pointedly to Coco's, wondering if that was the same beret. What did it say that Coco wore it now? Maybe that she was proud of the fact Velvet could show her ears, and that she supported it.

"Your job," she told Blake. "Is going to be to appeal to the faunus, to be the alternative route. To show that faunus and humans can stand together. How does that sound?"

"That… I like that." Blake smiled. "It's a great message."

"You're also going to be the token edgy, goth, emo or scene chick. I want maximum mood, moderate angst but go light on the brooding or sulking. And definitely no `life is suffering` moments. We want you to appeal to that demographic, not feed it."

Blake sighed. "And just like that, the inspiring moment is ruined."

Ruby sniggered.

"And you!" Coco rounded on her, making Ruby squeak loudly and hop back.

"Y-Yes? D-Do I need to do things…?"

Being asked to change was a little scary, especially if it meant having to put on something like the others. She wasn't sure she could smile like Yang did or talk in public like Weiss might have to. Even standing tall in the face of criticism was hard for her. No, she had to do it. For her team. If they were strong enough to handle this, she would be as well!

"I-I'm ready," she stammered. "I'll do what I have to!"

"Cute. Young. Spunky. Tomboyish. Energetic. Enthusiastic. Happy." Coco slammed her hands down onto Ruby's shoulders, tears brimming in her eyes. "You're perfect!"

Ruby gaped. "Eh?"

"Whaaat!?" Yang yelled.

"How is that fair!" Weiss complained.

"Ridiculous that she gets away with this…"

"This is serious business," Coco said. "Do you like cookies?"

Ruby gasped. "I _love_ cookies!"

"Perfect. I have a budget for this. I want you to always have cookies on hand when on PR jobs. Eat some and share the rest with any children. You need to look sweet, so I'm banning vegetables on PR jobs. If you want to eat something, it better have a sugar content."

Ruby's eyes sparkled. Her mouth watered.

"Yes Coco! I'll do whatever my image consultant says!"

"That's the attitude! Now, we need a dedicated huntress type as well. The spunky, never say die, obsessed with weapons and all things huntress type. Can you handle that? Do you think you can fake it? Do you like weapons?"

Ruby squealed. "DO I!?"

/-/

Jaune sagged back against the vending machine, empty chocolate wrappers around his legs. He'd needed the sugar rush after the debacle that was the battle at the docks and all but fallen asleep after, too exhausted both physically and mentally to stay up.

That the world had somehow turned on its head and proclaimed him the victor of said battle was something he frankly couldn't understand. Magic on Lisa's part, it was the only explanation. Torchwick had gotten away and far from come out as heroes, they'd fought against the actual heroes from Beacon.

Except, people were calling them victims.

_Honestly, I'll take it. I don't understand how it's happening, but I'll take it gladly._

"You're awake."

Blinking the sleep away he looked to the side, seeing Ilia sat nearby. "Ilia. Were you sleeping with me?"

"I was sleeping here," she said carefully. "The same as everyone. You need to get up, boss. There's… well, I think it's your job to handle this."

"Handle what?"

Ilia only shook her head and offered a hand, hauling him up. The rest of the kitchen area of the warehouse was empty but he could see the sleeping bags and empty cans of soda that suggested everyone had bunked there for the night. Following Ilia outside, he entered back into the main warehouse building.

Bane was on his knees, head lowered. Yuma stood awkwardly beside him, Trifa on his other side, and both looking more serious than he'd ever seen them before. The very second he entered, Deery was on him, eyes stained with tears.

"Boss, please, you don't understand. Bane didn't mean it!"

"Deery, what-? I'm not sure I even understand what's happening here."

"Bane went against your orders, sir." It was the first time Yuma had spoken to him so respectfully, but he didn't fail to notice the tinge of fear. "Adam was very strict on what that means. Bane… He's submitted to your decision. Whatever you want to do to him." Yuma's eyes trailed down to Crocea Mors meaningfully.

Suddenly, Deery's panic made a lot more sense.

"No!" he barked. "No killing! No one dies here!"

"Adam would have-"

"I'm not Adam!"

Jaune gasped as Deery slammed into him, mumbling `thank you` into his chest over and over. He rubbed her back awkwardly, watching as the others in the warehouse finally relaxed. Bane didn't look up, but the others backed away, even Tukson in the corner letting out a breath and finally releasing the thermos flask he had a death grip on.

Had they really thought he'd do it? Adam would have. He hadn't even been haunted by Adam last night; he wondered if that meant Adam was pondering over Blake's actions. Or sulking.

"Bane, look up," he ordered. When the man didn't comply, he repeated it. "Look at me, Bane. I'm not taking your life. I'll never take your life or anyone's here. We're friends, aren't we?" Him and a bunch of terrorists, but friendship didn't mean agreement, did it? He could like them as people without wanting to be a part of this.

"I'm sorry." Bane's voice rumbled. "I lost control."

"It… well, it won't happen again, will it?"

Bane's head drooped lower.

"Bane?"

"Can't control it," the giant whispered. "Not when there's a Schnee in front of me…"

Oh. That… That was going to be a problem, wasn't it? Jaune bit his lip, unsure what he was supposed to say or do. Death was out the question, but punishment wasn't, but even then, if this was going to be a repeat thing then he had to know more about it.

"Uh. We won't be doing anything today so people who don't need to be here can go home."

Tukson and Perry took advantage of that offer, excusing themselves to return to home and work. Deery didn't go with and instead appeared determined to stand by and defend Bane. Yuma and Trifa made their own excuses to go and gather supplies, while Ilia mentioned checking on the comms device in the sewers and making sure nothing happened to it. Soon enough it was just him, Bane and Deery.

He was glad they all caught the hint.

"Do you want to talk, Bane? I need to understand."

Bane grunted. "Deery."

"I'll talk," she whispered. "I was there." Her smile turned bitter. "Bane and I aren't actually native to the city. We come from Vale, but a Schnee lumber camp up north. It felled trees to be shipped back to Atlas to burn in the dust refining plants. It used to be a small village, but it was taken over by the SDC before we were born. They… They were ruthless."

"Ruthless businessmen?" he asked.

Deery chuckled and took hold of her top, drawing it up to show her midsection. "Not quite."

**...**

**SDC**

**...**

The thick, red brand was burned into her skin with thick lines above and below. There was no mistaking it a tattoo, it was a brand delivered by burning hot metal pressed into flesh. The skin around it was tight and red, scarred for life.

"My God…"

"We weren't people up there," she said, letting her shirt fall back down over it. "We were resources, all of us. They protected and fed us, but we had to work shifts cutting, pulling or pruning the trees. My job was easier, sort of. I was a cook. I made food for the camp."

"And Bane was muscle I assume."

"Yeah." Deery looked back to him sadly. "Bane was one of the main lumberjacks. He was a master with a chainsaw. The thing is, well, did you never wonder why he's so big? People can be tall, sure, but Bane is huge."

"I just assumed it was genetics, though if you're bringing it up now, I guess that's not the case."

"Bane was part of a series of tests performed on faunus in our camp. His mother… she was injected with things before she had him. She didn't survive the birth. Bane grew big, too big, but that was fine from their point of view. He could be worked harder for longer and he didn't tire or get sick like most faunus did. He was the ideal worker."

Jaune felt sick. "They _experimented_ on him…?"

"More like they drugged him repeatedly. Hormone boosters. Steroids. Lots of performance enhancing drugs and some dust mixtures. There were others too, but most of them died. Bane's the only one who made it through in one piece. When they realised that, they thought it might be something to do with him, so they… they…" Deery cut off.

"Melissa," Bane said mournfully. "Sister…"

"They put your sister through the same thing they used on your mother, didn't they?" He hoped he was wrong, but their pain said it all. He'd heard nightmare stories about the SDC camps, but most of those were from the White Fang and he just assumed it was their propaganda at work.

There was no way people could really endorse such slavery. No way humanity would allow it.

_Villages rise and fall outside the walls all the time and no one cares. If they won't even protect far-flung villages against the Grimm, why would they try and protect them against the wealthiest company on Remnant?_

"Melissa didn't survive the birth," Deery said. "Nor did the baby. Bane went nuts when he found out. The SDC beat him down and… well, the foreman punished him as best he knew."

Bane drew a hand up to his shoulder and pulled his top off. Jaune hissed at the sight of his chest and back, covered in red lines and scars, visibly delivered by a whip or sharp cane. Sprinkled among those were more burns. SDC. SDC. SDC.

"It was too much," Deery said. "Bane was the gentle giant. Everyone loved him. The foreman might have thought he was cowing us, but it drove us into a frenzy. They couldn't hold us back and we washed over them like a tide. I-I didn't see much. I ran to Bane and helped him, but by the time it was over all the SDC personnel were dead and we decided we were done with the place."

"You came to Vale?"

"It was the only place we could go. And when the White Fang came, we signed up. I may not like the fighting and everything, but their mission isn't wrong. I don't want others living like we did." Deery smiled suddenly. "And things are good now. You're better than Adam ever was."

"Yeah." Jaune swallowed. "I'm not going to punish you. I can't. Did… That girl, Weiss Schnee, was she a part of it?"

Bane shook his head. "No. Lost control. Sorry…"

"Anything Schnee sets him off," Deery explained. "We know they weren't involved. I doubt even Jacques Schnee himself knew what was happening – the individual camps are autonomous, kind of like their own self-run governments. Maybe not all of them are that bad, but they had to fulfil quotas for the SDC and when there are no protections in place to look after faunus and a foreman's word is as good as law…? That kind of power corrupts."

"Not her fault." Bane intoned. "But I want to kill a Schnee. Know it's wrong, but…" He shrugged one shoulder helplessly, the criss-cross of latticework scars over his back stretching painfully. That Bane didn't cry out spoke all too much of what had happened to him.

"We'll have to keep you away from her. Can't have you killing Weiss Schnee. I'm sorry if that upsets you."

"Doesn't. Want peace."

"I'm glad to hear it." If Bane would agree to stay back from her, that might be enough. He hoped so. Weiss Schnee the huntress wasn't responsible for this, and like they said, even the Schnee family itself might not know for sure what was happening in their autonomous camps.

Did that make it better? Not really. Everyone accused the SDC of slavery and they always denied it, which meant they had to be aware of the possibility – and those rumours probably didn't come from nowhere. Somewhere down the line, someone in the SDC was ignoring this. Enabling it. Was there anything he could really hope to do about that from all the way in Vale?

Maybe. Just maybe.

"Hey, you said it was a lumber camp, right?" He waited for Deery's nod. "That'd mean even if you shut it down, the SDC would still need lumber for their refineries. That would probably still be done in Vale, wouldn't it?"

"Yes. I think so. Why?"

"Sienna is demanding we start recruiting new members, but it's risky to do anything right now with Beacon riled up. We need to stay out of their sights for a little bit, but Lisa will be on my back if we don't do something she can report on." Jaune leaned on the nearby wall. "How about we take care of three birds with one stone?"

/-/

_Deep breaths,_ Blake thought. _Deep breaths. I can do this. This is to stop the White Fang. This will help fight the White Fang. This is not a waste of my time._

That had been drilled into her head over and over. What may have seemed useless was actually valuable PR, which was the single most important resource the White Fang held right now. By building their own, they weakened Jaune Arc's grasp on the group. Weaken it enough and he'd surely be replaced, letting things return to how they should be – White Fang evil; her huntress.

"I can do this."

Weiss, Ruby and Yang were already doing this as well, spreading themselves thin.

"Deep breath. I'm ready. I'm a huntress. I've faced Grimm."

The door opened and a kindly woman stood there, smiling brightly at her. "They're ready for you, dear. Thank you so much for this. You have no idea what it means to everyone for you to come down and do this."

Nodding, Blake followed the woman into the room, into the classroom.

Thirty faces looked back at her eagerly. Children, all between the ages of eight and ten, staring at her with their beady little eyes. Paints, collage and bright crayons lay discarded on the tables, while the walls of the juvenile classroom were covered in posters and motivational messages.

"Alright class," the teacher began. "As promised, Blake Belladonna has come down from Beacon to talk to you all about what it means to be a huntress and to answer any questions you have. Now, I want you all to be nice to her. Say hello."

"**Hello Miss Belladonna**," thirty voices intoned as one.

Blake shivered, but kept her head high. They were only children and this was just an informational visit to be seen and to show the next generation what it meant to be a huntress, both so some might consider the career for themselves, but also to show that Beacon wasn't just some cold and faceless academy, but a place full of kind and happy people eager to help, even if it meant answering the questions of children.

And really, how bad could it be?

/-/

"Never again," Blake wept, face buried in Yang's chest. "So many questions. So stupid. Why haven't I tried to befriend the Grimm? Can I have a Grimm puppy? What's my favourite Grimm? What do Grimm taste like? Why do Grimm have skulls on the outside of their faces? Why don't I know why Grimm have skulls on the outsides of their faces? Have I never thought of taking the skulls off to see what's inside? Why have I never thought of taking the skulls off to see what's inside?"

Blake banged her face against Yang's chest, almost like she was trying to knock herself unconscious and escape this hell. It didn't work very well, given Yang's rather `bouncy` chest. That didn't stop Blake trying.

"They're evil, Yang. Evil. Humanity is doomed. Let them perish and wipe the world afresh. Let the Grimm win. At this point it would be a mercy…"

"There, there," Yang said, equally tired and rubbing her partner's hair. "It'll be okay."

"My dress!" Weiss wailed, holding her skirt out. There was brightly coloured paint and dots of sparkling dust down the front of it, utterly ruining it all. That she'd kept calm and smiling even when the children daubed on her was proof of Coco's training and frankly evidence that Weiss could, when pushed, show the kind of patience not even Summer Rose could have managed.

"They wanted to wrestle me," Yang sighed. "I thought that'd be fine. Just let them win and have fun, right? No. Everything is pointy. Knees. Elbows. Hips. Hands. I feel like I've been put through one of those machines that grinds rocks down into dust. This PR stuff is torture. How did you ever manage it, Weiss?"

"The SDC did it for me, and that was mostly just throwing money at things…"

"Sheesh. I wonder how Rubes is doing."

Yang, Weiss and Blake peeked around the corner and into the last classroom. Ruby was taking much longer than expected, which probably meant she was in an even worse spot than them. Poor Ruby had no idea how to handle talking to new people, so this must have been even worse for her.

"-and then I was like Wam! Bam! Wazzooo!" Ruby kicked the air. "And Torchwick was all `oh no, I am defeated` and begged me for mercy. It was super cool!"

"Wow!"

"Ruby's the best!"

"I wanna be like Ruby!"

"So cool!"

"Ruby! Ruby! Ruby!"

Yang stared, equal parts surprised and betrayed, but mostly just annoyed, as all the children clapped and cried out in awe and naked admiration, leaving Ruby nodding happily from the front of the class, hands on her hips and wearing a huge smile.

"Okay, future huntsmen and huntresses. Who wants some cookies?"

"I DO!" the class chorused.

Five minutes later Ruby walked out with a big smile on her face, cookie crumbs around her lips and the adulating praises of the class _and_ the teacher behind her, all of whom were eagerly proclaiming they wanted to be "just like Ruby" when they grew up.

"Hey guys!" Ruby said cheerfully on seeing them. "This PR stuff is actually pretty easy, huh?"

* * *

**Bit of a non-Jaune chapter here, what with Team RWBY starting their side-careers as icons and faces of Beacon. There'll be some more practical examples of that in the next chapter. A lot of people noted that Bane was in fact a lot better against Weiss than I made him out to be. I went back and watched it and you're probably right. It was hard to remember it all since it was so long ago and I think I just remember it ending weirdly because Blake appears, does something, and then I think it just cut out with Bane dropping down for some reason.**

**Either way, it probably wouldn't have changed last chapter because the difference between Bane vs Weiss on the train and Bane vs Weiss at the docks is that Weiss can dodge and give ground at the docks like she did, while on the train she was forced to face him and fight in close quarters due to both the carriage and the bombs. Though she doesn't show it all that often in the show itself, I always imagine Weiss as more of a wide, open space kind of fighter.**

**Her glyphs and ice terrain and summons would all work really well when she has more room to manoeuvre.**

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**Next Chapter: 14****th**** April**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	12. Chapter 12

**Troll in Reviews**

**As has been noted, there is a troll in reviews spamming guest reviews and trying to frame people by writing their name in the name slot. Just ignore it. It's not worth the effort of paying attention to and I'm only writing this message so people are aware.**

**He's also pretending to be me by writing ****_my_**** name in guest review slots. I would only ever review something from this (logged-in) account.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 12**

* * *

"I was kinda hoping you'd have moved on…"

Adam, or the spirit of Adam, crossed his arms and cocked his head to the side. "Why would I? You haven't accomplished what I asked of you."

That was true, but Adam had been blessedly silent ever since the incident at the docks with the Blake girl, so he'd dared to hope. Apparently, no such luck. "Alright," Jaune said, "But then, why have you been quiet all this time?"

"I have been… thinking."

"Did it hurt?" Jaune quailed under the dead man's glare. "Okay, not in a joking mood. That's cool. What were you thinking about?"

"Blake."

A dead person in his head was thinking sexy thoughts about a living person who hated his guts. He wasn't sure how many -philias that crossed, but the obvious one was creepy enough. Was it also a form of masochism? Probably. Those girls had been pretty cute but if he had to rank them in order of approachability, he'd have put Adam's girlfriend in last which, considering this was Adam, sort of made sense. Like attracted like.

"Blake despised you," he said.

"I noticed. I didn't even do anything, and she went straight for the throat."

"That could be because you're White Fang, but it could also be because you killed me." Adam sounded thrilled at the idea and it took Jaune a second to realise why.

"You want her vengeful…"

"If she is acting in vengeance, that means she mourns my death."

Great. So this was one of those `If I died, how many people would turn up to my funeral` things. Except that Adam got to both die _and_ see the fallout, so it was the first time it'd ever been applicable.

"Or it means she hates you and everything you stood for."

Adam's smile fell. "Yes. Or it means that. I want to know which. No, I _need_ to know which it is. Does she grieve me, or does she despise me so much that she would tarnish my name even in death? It is selfish, I know-"

"It definitely is!"

"-but I need to know," he finished with a glower. "Don't judge me, Arc. I'm dead. Try that for yourself before offering pithy commentary."

"I will be if Sienna Khan realises I'm not on side."

"Yes. She will kill you. And it will be glorious."

"…"

"Though do make sure to die _after_ sorting my issues with Blake."

"I'll try and make that a priority," Jaune snarked. "Oh God, I'm being sassed by a dead person. Just my luck. So, what do you want me to do with her? Specifically, I mean."

"Insult me in front of her. Mock me. Tell her how you enjoyed killing me." Adam breathed out quickly. "I want to see how she reacts."

Oh sure, and that didn't sound like a quick way to get shanked. Just piss off the potentially unstable huntress by mocking her dead ex-boyfriend who he'd killed. Yeah, sure, nothing stupid about that decision!

"How about no?"

"How about I won't help you in this upcoming attack of yours if you don't."

"We're going to free faunus! Isn't that, like, your thing?"

"It was." Adam shrugged. "But I'm somewhat lacking in responsibility due to the whole being dead thing. Maybe the person who murdered me should have thought twice."

"Maybe you shouldn't be such a prick!"

"Maybe this prick shouldn't tell you how to raid an SDC facility…"

Jaune sighed. Heavily. "How best should I insult you?"

/-/

That he could get out of the city as one of the most wanted people in it was equal parts worrying and jarring. On one side, it meant Vale's security was shot – and he lived in Vale, so that was a problem. On the other, it meant he could stop living in Vale if he really wanted. Maybe even go home to Ansel.

Except that the authorities would soon follow. The White Fang wasn't a problem limited to Vale but a terrorist group that spanned all Remnant. He couldn't leave until his name was cleared and doing so would only bring worse attention to his family. It might even earn them Sienna's wrath if she realised he wasn't loyal.

He woke up in the back of a flatbed truck pulling out the city. It was a heavy-duty thing and he figured out why the second it was outside and the nice, smooth roads of Vale gave way to absolute wilderness. Automobiles weren't much use outside the cities and towns.

It felt obvious and they'd never had a car in Ansel either, but considering how dangerous the wildlands could be and how devastating a head-on crash with a Grimm would be, there was no real market for road travel. To say nothing of the poor bastards who had to actually lay the roads down.

Most freight in Remnant was done by air, sea or rail – and even having functioning railways was a damn miracle. Presumably, a speeding train dealt with Grimm a little less catastrophically than a car. Again, he pitied the people who had to lay the tracks. Maybe they used Atlas robots to do it. That wasn't to say trucks were entirely useless, they still carried more weight than a person could, but you certainly wouldn't bring a sportscar or hatchback outside the city. You needed an off-roader, or a vehicle so cheap and tough that you didn't mind abandoning it if you had to.

Naturally, Perry had sprung for the latter.

"How are you driving again?" Deery growled. "I swore I threatened to castrate you if you did!"

"Because no one else feels confident driving out here."

"With good reason! Watch out for that tree!"

"I saw it. I saw it. Sheesh."

Perry's exasperated tone would have been more reasonable if said tree hadn't just scythed off their wingmirror. Trifa leaned into the middle of the back compartment, huddling close to Jaune. He'd have felt flattered if it wasn't for how Yuma was doing the same on the other side, both afraid to be sat near the edges and thus in the most danger of being struck by a branch.

It didn't help that Jaune's throat kept bulging out dangerously, his face alternating between pallid and sickly. He'd have retched off the side already if he wasn't afraid of being decapitated by a passing tree.

Only Bane remained calm, sat with his back up to the cockpit and his arms out to the side, gripping each side. His face was one set in stone, an unusual sense of cold determination in his eyes. Given their destination, he knew why, and yet again questioned Adam's logic in telling him to bring the giant along.

Not all of them were coming. Tukson had to stay to run his business and Ilia to protect the CCT. Lisa had stayed as well, not being suited for this kind of thing, but she'd provided them all with concealed cameras fed to her laptop, with the promise that their names and faces would be edited out. That mean it was just him, Bane, Perry, Deery, Yuma and Trifa on the job.

Or, as he cynically liked to think, the idiot patrol.

That included himself of course.

"Remember the plan," he shouted out. "We're not causing a scene or launching an attack. Our job is to _expose_ the SDC camp for what it's doing – if it's doing anything wrong at all. We don't have any proof yet, so if they're paying their employees well and doing everything legal, we leave peacefully. Understood?"

"Yep."

"Got it, boss."

"Su- tree!"

"I saw it!" Perry swerved wildly, bringing the truck up onto two wheels and making Jaune and Yuma squeal like frightened schoolgirls, before it crashed back down onto all four with a horrifying crack from the suspension or axle. "See?" Perry said. "I'm in total control. You guys need to be less jumpy. You're wearing seatbelts, aren't you?"

"NO!" everyone in the back shouted.

"Wow. Not cool, guys. Not cool."

"Deery," Trifa growled. "Hit him."

"Belay that order!" Jaune snapped.

"Aw, boss. You care!"

"Belay it until _after_ he's finished driving us there."

"Aww…"

"Roger!" Deery saluted. "Not long now, boss. How is your motion sickness holding up?"

"Glup…"

"PULL OVER!" Yuma shrieked. "PULL OVER!"

/-/

"Looks like a medium-sized camp. I'd say sixty faunus – maybe ten to fifteen of those children. I count twelve, thirteen – fifteen SDC, not including the civilian workers. Foreman and the like. Only fifteen armed and trained guards."

Trifa handed him the binoculars and Jaune peered through, laid out atop a low ridge with Trifa and Yuma on either side of him. The truck was parked further back and out of sight under guard of Bane, Perry and Deery.

Peering through the lenses, the smallish compound came into focus. It was a circular wall of metal with barbed wire across the top and guards patrolling along it. Spotlights aimed out but were turned off since it was daytime. Next to the wall was a large metal rack with long trees laid one on top of the other inside it, ready to be transported away by whatever pick up came for them.

The inside was what drew his attention. The ground was flat and dusty like all the grass had been burned away, and four buildings totalled in all. One was larger than the others, several floors in fact and constructed of brick and metal. The other three were smaller and made of wood, more readily accessible in a logging camp. They were more like longhouses, single floor buildings with peaked roofs and little decoration. Two of those stood side by side, facing toward the biggest building, while the third stood further off to the side and was pointing the other way. That one had smoke curling up from the chimney. Two chimneys, in fact.

"The smoking one is probably a canteen," Yuma reported. "The other two – bunkhouses, I'd guess. One for men and one for women. The biggest is a barracks and admin centre, basically where the SDC live. Fairly typical conditions, all things considered."

Jaune hummed and tried to watch the individual people milling below. The binoculars weren't powerful enough for that. "But are they bad conditions?"

"Impossible to tell." Yuma sat up, putting his binoculars away. "Could argue having such shitty lodging is evidence, but this is the wildlands, and this is a temporary logging camp. Not like they'd build palaces."

"Only way to know for sure will be to go in," Trifa said.

He'd been dreading that.

Of course it wouldn't be so easy as the SDC to have a sign printing `Abusive` on the front gates. Those were closed as well, and while the place _looked_ like an internment camp, once you factored in the Grimm outside, the barbed wire and walls clearly became something to keep the enemy out, not the faunus in. The barbed wire wasn't even pointing inward, so the faunus could climb onto the walls easily if they wanted to.

Adam might have been all for swing first and ask questions later, but he wasn't. One bad example with Bane wasn't justification for going after every logging camp in Vale, and they'd only destroy the positive image they'd been building if they got this wrong.

"Are we commending Operation Catfish?" Yuma asked.

"I'm convinced we didn't agree on that name…"

"If it works, it works."

Jaune sighed. "Yes, Yuma. It's time for Operation Catfish."

/-/

A leader had to lead by example.

That was only part of the reason he'd allowed himself to be a part of this. The other was that this mission was to determine whether an attack on the camp was necessary, so he couldn't trust that responsibility to someone who might have an axe to grind with the SDC, which was essentially all the other members. He had to see for himself if they were cruel.

Still, he couldn't help but feel stupid as he came out from the truck dressed in a pair of cargo pants and a ratty shirt several sizes too large for him. It was off-white and stained by mud and grass, which Perry assured him would make sense for a faunus travelling along in the wilderness.

Trifa didn't look much better, yet somehow wore it better. The silver-haired girl had a knee-length dress a dark blue in colour with black shorts visible underneath. The dress was pinched into her waist by a belt and dipped a little low down her chest, showing off just a big of cleavage and the distinctive grey lines reaching up toward her neck. The markings that for some inexplicable reason denoted a spider faunus.

As opposed to something like a zebra, where skin markings would make more sense.

All in all, Trifa had the look of a young woman wearing her mother's dress that she hadn't yet grown into, but that she didn't own anything else. They both looked poor, out of place and ragged. Perfect for the task at hand.

"Alright," Yuma said. "Operation Catfish. Deery, do we have comms?"

"Comms are up and running!" Deery gave a thumbs up from the back of the truck where she'd set up a small laptop and aerial system that would, if all worked well, allow them to see and hear through the tiny listening devices Lisa provided them. "Can we get a test, boss?"

Jaune spoke into his lapel. "Testing. One, two, three."

Deery gave another thumbs up, headphones over her ears. The comms worked.

"Great." Yuma grinned and crossed his arms. "That leaves the two of you to handle the big stuff. Remember, the code phrase is `moonlight`. Say that and we'll launch the attack straight out. `Sunlight` is code for everything being clear. We'll extricate you peacefully and leave without problem."

All planned by Jaune and Adam in his dreams, though everyone here just assumed he'd come up with the whole idea on his own. Genius of him really. Adam was probably rolling in his metaphorical grave.

The plan itself was simple. Two faunus lost in the woods looking for work and protection who wanted to be hired by the SDC. With how many villages fell to Grimm, it wouldn't be a surprise to the guards. They'd be husband and wife, the better to stick together and prevent any unpleasantness. Jaune looked over to Trifa and swallowed. Husband and wife. That was kinda embarrassing. His skin was already heating up.

"Come on, then," Perry said. "Play the part. You're meant to be married."

Jaune coughed and strode over, smiling and crooking his arm. "Milady. May I escort you?"

Trifa looked him up and down and with no sense of mercy said, "You've never dated a person in your life, have you?"

Ouch.

"Ouch!" Yuma echoed his thoughts aloud. "No wonder you're still single, Trifa."

"Huh. I guess even the boss has something he's useless at. Didn't expect it to be women."

"Wow." Deery hung over the edge of the truck, eyes flat. "That was super lame. Milady? Really?"

Jaune slumped.

"Okay, new plan." Yuma clapped his hands together. "You're still married, but Trifa is the domineering type and you're her little sub bitch. I think that'll be more believable at this point…"

"I hate each and every one of you…"

/-/

_The first time I'm holing a girl's hand and we're off to sign our lives away to an SDC logging camp._

Even those dour thoughts didn't quite hide the stupid grin on his face. He'd sort of expected Trifa's hands to be a little strange. They shot webs for crying out loud! Despite that, they were soft and warm, his fingers tingling as they intertwined with hers. If she noticed the stupid smile on his face, she didn't comment on it, and he hoped she thought it stellar acting on his part.

It didn't take long for the guards on the walls to spot them. "Halt!" one called. He was dressed in grey and white, somewhat like an Atlas soldier but with marked differences. One was the cloth over his shoulder, reaching down to his elbow. It looked like a mantle or long epaulet and had the snowflake of the SDC on it.

The other difference was the helmets, which instead of covering their faces looked more like plumed camps with white tassels hanging down the back. It was more a dress uniform than an honest to goodness set of armour.

He had a gun either way, so Trifa and he stopped.

"State your business! Are you one of ours?"

Trifa squeezed his hand to let him know she'd handle it. "Our village was destroyed three days ago, sir. We've been travelling ever since. We were told there might be work here for those willing, alone with protection."

"Are you faunus?"

"I am. I'm a spider faunus and my husband is…" Trifa flung out the first thing to come to mind, "A gorilla faunus."

_A gorilla? Why? Am I hairy?_ He tried to find an answer in her face, but she refused to meet his eyes.

"Wait there," the man called. "I'll speak to the foreman. Don't come close."

"Please, sir, there are Grimm outside."

The man sighed. "You can come close to the walls. If any Grimm appear, we'll deal with them. Don't try anything. You'll be watched." True to his word, several other guards had come around at the commotion, and while they weren't aiming guns at them, they were keeping an eye on the newcomers.

They waited in the shadow of the gates, ostensibly for protection but also so they might hear what was going on inside. There weren't any painful screams or cries for mercy. There wasn't much of anything at all, just a low murmur of noise.

Ten minutes later, the gate opened. Not the large metal doors but a much smaller one that had been all but concealed at the base. Two guards came out, weapons at the ready. Between them was a wiry thin woman with greying hair and sharp green eyes. A forewoman, in fact.

She looked like a cross between every dinner lady and magistrate Jaune had ever seen, dressed in a tight blue suit better suited for someone much younger than she, with the snowflake symbol proudly emblazoned on her chest. Her eyes ran over them critically, but she didn't sneer or comment on their state of dress.

"You are our new guests?" she asked waspishly. "You look to be in a state."

"Our village was attacked by Grimm," Trifa explained.

"Did I ask you to speak, dear? No. I've heard you wish to work here – well, we'll never say no to new employees. I hope you don't mind a quick search first, however. Weapons are not allowed within the camp."

"I have a knife," Trifa said quickly. The guards tensed. "For protection against Grimm. Should I hand that over?"

The guard on the left nodded and held his hand out. Trifa revealed the small thing – not her real weapon – and offered the hilt to him. He took it and waved the other forward, while the old lady watched as they held their arms out and were patted down for weaponry. On finding none, the guards stepped back and signalled the all clear.

"Very good. Come inside, please, and we'll talk about the terms of employment."

The woman led and they followed, flanked by the guards, who closed the small door behind them. Faunus looked over curiously as they were led across the flat and sandy grounds toward the main SDC building. Everyone looked well-fed and healthy enough, nothing like the gaunt and sickly horror stories he'd heard of the mining camps. That might have had something to do with the work involved. Lumbering was dangerous for falling trees, but presumably not as dangerous as working in a dark mine with highly explosive dust deposits.

A few children were playing with a ball and stick off to the side, while older faunus sat on long benches with bowls of stew or soup in hand. No one looked abused, no one looked hurt or overly afraid, and yet at the same time they made way for the woman and her entourage, and no one tried to speak to them.

He couldn't tell if that was a bad sign or just politeness.

Once they were in the main building, they were led to a small office. If the outside had been spartan, this place was luxurious. The extreme divide in wealth was apparent, and while unfair, not necessarily cruel. He didn't know enough about the faunus conditions to say, and wasn't it typical of everywhere that upper managers would have better offices?

The woman sat down and drew out some paper documents. "Mr and Mrs…?"

"White," Jaune said. It was a name given to orphans of the Mountain Glenn disaster, of which there had been many children at the time. His mom had been one of them before she married his father, so the name fit and couldn't be tracked. "Jamie and Tifa White."

"I see." It was jotted down. "I am Foreman Elizabeth Tanner, placed here by Jacques Schnee himself, CEO of the Schnee Dust Corporation. I oversee this camp, which as you've no doubt noticed, produces limber for the SDC's refining plants. You may refer to me as Miss Tanner, Foreman or Overseer as you see fit. You are _not_ to refer to me as ma'am, am I understood?"

"Yes, Miss Tanner."

"Yes, foreman."

"Good." Her smile was pinched and forced. "Now, I have your contracts here. Let's go over them, shall we?"

Contracts? That was a good sign. He hadn't expected camps that ran people like slaves to have written contracts. It ought to keep people safe since they'd be logged and have a paper trail. Trifa and he nodded.

"Your jobs will involve lumbering and transporting as you might imagine. The work is six days a week with Sunday as your free day. You may be required to work shifts, of which your shift master will decide. You will work no more than eight hours per day except in cases of emergency, such as damage to the walls needing repairs or fire, famine or collapse of a building. That is unlikely to happen, but I'm legally required to inform you of it."

"That's fine, Miss Tanner. We understand."

"The package you'll be offered is a competitive one," she went on. "In total, and considering all targets hit, you'll be looking at OTE – that's on-target earnings – of forty-five thousand lien per annum. How does that sound?"

"Generous," Jaune said. The average in Vale was a little higher, but that was the average and bumped up by the upper crust. It was less than what his father earned, but his father was a huntsman. Most people starting work in restaurants and the like earned less than twenty thousand.

"The SDC is no simple company and we pay for quality, Mr White. Our packages reflect this. Now, there _is_ accommodation and food to consider."

Trifa hummed. "I thought that would be included?"

"Oh no. No, no, no. We have to pay for the buildings to be maintained and cleaned, for the wages of the security team that protect us from the Grimm, for food – and keep in mind nothing is farmed or produced out here, so everything needs to be imported from elsewhere. It all adds up. Fortunately, the burden is spread and shared by everyone, so there _will_ be a one-off up-front payment of one hundred and fifty-thousand lien required."

"Up-front? Why!?"

"Because you will be _buying_ space within our walls, Mrs White," the foreman explained calmly. "You won't just be renting but owning your very own part of camp. And we keep you safe from the Grimm. As people who have just lost their own home, surely you cannot put a price on security. Do you not want a safe home where you can raise children of your own?"

_I guess that makes sense. And the walls and all that probably aren't cheap._

"We can't afford to pay up front," Trifa said.

"No concern there, dear. We can work out a payment plan for you – over time, of course. Say, ten or fifteen years? We hold interest below the national average so you'll not lose out and you can pay from your pay package year on year until it is paid off." She drew out a calculator. "With some simple calculations, you could have your debt cleared in only fifteen years by reducing your package from forty-five thousand to thirty thousand."

"Fifteen times fifteen isn't one hundred and fifty," Jaune pointed out.

"No. It's two hundred and twenty-five, but that _is_ considering interest over a fifteen-year period. Think of it as a mortgage."

He didn't want to, but he tried anyway, and it _did_ make sense. A mortgage for a home would come with similar terms, sometimes even worse, and while the halls here didn't look worth it compared to anything he'd seen, the point remained that this was Grimm territory. You paid for safety. Even then, thirty thousand a year was still rather good pay.

"That's accommodation handled. Now, onto food."

Jaune's eyes narrowed. "That's not included?"

"Mr White, we pay for your time – and we may with hard lien. If you are going to interrupt constantly, we shall never be done. We have food to cover first, then medicine and finally childcare."

"We don't have children."

"No, but you may have in the future, unless you are prepared to subject yourself to permanent birth control?"

Trifa hissed. "Are you saying you'll _spay_ me?"

"Oh no. Goodness no!" Elizabeth turned to him and made a snip motion with her fingers. Jaune's knees locked together. "I was referring more to a vasectomy."

"I think I'd prefer my man producing, thank you."

"In which case we'll need to consider what the future may hold, dear. Don't worry. We have a package in place for that as well."

/-/

"I feel like I just sold my soul to the devil…"

"You're not alone there," Trifa grumbled. "Down from forty-five kay a year to fifteen. That's below minimum wage and I can guarantee the work here is ten times as hard as anything you'll find in the city."

"That's not proof enough that we should attack them."

Trifa sighed but let it go. She knew as well as he that perception was everything. Obviously, the SDC was taking them for a ride, but everything could be argued as fair in a certain light. Fifteen per year was better than nothing, and arguably once the pay-off period for the debt was over, it'd spring back up above average _and_ they'd own their own place.

It wasn't good by any means, but for people who genuinely had nowhere to go, it was better than nothing. There were humans who would jump at that kind of offer.

The long bunkhouses weren't as awful as he'd imagined either. In his head he'd been thinking prison camp; rows upon rows of bunk beds close together with no coverage or privacy. Instead, the door opened into a long and narrow corridor, off which stood many smaller doors leading to private rooms, kind of like a hotel if one considered the worst and cheapest motel humanly possible.

"The faunus outside looked healthy."

"No point starving people who have to work backbreaking labour."

"Do you have to see the bad in everything?" he asked. "I'm trying to look at the positives. Far as I'm concerned, this is still a `sunlight` situation."

"Let's not call it either way," Trifa said quickly. "We need to spend at least a day here before making a decision. We've only seen how they hire new people. We need to at least experience one of those shifts they mentioned. See what the food is like, how the discipline is, what kinds of freedoms the faunus have. Talk to some of them."

"I get it. I get it. But shall we check our new home first? We just signed a mortgage for this."

Trifa sighed. "Let's take a look then…"

Their room was numbered 76 – and they found it across from 74, with 75 the door before, odds on one side, evens on the other. The door was locked but the little key they'd been provided slid into the lock and it clicked and turned, letting Jaune push in. Trifa came behind, closing the door behind her, and Jaune inspected the room, taking in a deep breath.

"It has potential."

"It is _literally_ a bed, a box and nothing more!" Trifa snapped. "It's empty!"

"Like I said, potential. Lots of potential…"

"Yeah, and I'm sure they'll be happy to import in furniture – except it'll be expensive because they have to transport it so far, so it'll add a few more thousand to our debt. But don't worry!" she chirped. "They have a package for that!"

It probably would be that. Jaune sighed and sat down on the bed. It, at least, was relatively soft. The room was as bare as she'd said, with only a wooden crate to act as storage for any belongings they might have. There was room for it to grow however, and you usually did buy a house bare.

_Am I trying to defend them or being blind? This is feeling more and more like a debt trap._

Depending on how hard the work was, there was a good chance no faunus would be able to pay back the terms in time, but that would have to wait until they actually tested the work for themselves.

"Our shift is in six hours," he said. "What should we do until then? Ask around?"

"No. We're probably being watched for now." Trifa moved to the window and drew the thick curtains. "They expect us to be exhausted from our travels. We should play into that and get some sleep."

Jaune's eyes flicked to the bed. "Here?"

"Yes. Where else?"

"T-Together…?"

"It's only a bed," she pointed out.

It wasn't the bed he was panicked about. He nodded anyway, trusting her impression and maybe just a tad – just a teensy bit – excited to see what it'd be like. "Okay. Sure." He drew the blanket back and laid down on the right side of the bed, waiting awkwardly for her to shuck off her boots and climb into the other.

She remained clothed, as did he, but the bed was small enough that their hips touched under the covers. He just knew Adam would be rolling his eyes in his head, but this was still the closest he'd ever gotten with a girl not a sibling.

"Remember," she whispered, "We have to act like a desperate couple looking for a new home. That goes for tomorrow as well. We can probably handle what work they give us, but the average civilian couldn't. Don't act too competent."

"Somehow, I doubt that's going to be a problem with me involved…"

"And don't do anything to arouse their suspicions."

"Trust me, Trifa, the last person you need to worry about being aroused is them."

"…" Trifa stared at him, her face scant inches away. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Thank you. Love you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight boss."

* * *

**Poor Jaune finally getting some. Sort of. What **_**would**_** it be like holding hands with Trifa? How **_**does**_** she make sense biologically? Why does a spider faunus have blackened veins, and would she have holes in her hands to fire webs like Deidera from Naruto? Or maybe she has little spider butts in her hands?**

**Girl, you make no sense!**

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**Next Chapter: 28****th**** April**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	13. Chapter 13

**As people may or may not know, I offer lessons and advice to some of my supporters who want to learn to write, usually in the form of lessons online over Skype and whatnot. I have quite a few students, some of whom are fanfiction writers themselves, some in RWBY and some even in other fandoms.**

**But I'm happy to announce one of my students has just self-published the novel we've been working on together on Amazon, which is available in both paperback and digital format.**

**It's written by him with me helping with lessons, advice and the likes, so please be aware that if you read it, it's **_**his**_** work, not mine. But I'm proud of it nonetheless, and proud of him for taking the step.**

**If you'd like to read or purchase it, you can find it on Amazon (be sure to use com or co uk or whatever it is depending on your region). The author's name is Charles Cackler and the book is called "The Mage Trials (Path of the Magi)". You can easily find it by going to amazon and typing his name in the search bar.**

**If you have Kindle Unlimited, you can read it for free, otherwise it's obviously free to read the first chapter or so. I'd be happy if you'd check it out and see if it's something any of you might be interested in reading. I will say it's different to RWBY obviously. It's an original novel. I'd love to provide a link, but the site doesn't allow it.**

* * *

_For those wondering, I'll be posting about this for once on each story for this week – I know you may have read the note on Null, but I'm obviously very pumped, as is my student, so I wanted to do him a solid with a mention. Plus, not everyone reads all my works, so consider it more for those who haven't seen it yet. _

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Jaune couldn't sleep.

It might have been the situation, undercover in a faunus work camp having signed their freedom away for unknown benefits and distant promises. It might have been the weight of responsibility, the faunus relying on him and the consequences of a mistaken decision, of judging too soon that they were evil when maybe they were just pragmatic. It might also have been the fear, fear of discovery, of capture, of everyone ignoring the good he'd tried to do to prove his innocence and throwing him in a cell, never to see his family again.

It might even have been because Trifa was spooning against him, hand over his stomach, leg over his crotch, face nuzzled into his neck with her soft bangs gently tickling his nose and her breath wafting over his lips so close that if he were to tilt to the side, they might have touched.

It _might_ have been more due to that on hindsight.

That and the raging hormones.

_You know, up close it's hard to notice the spider parts. Wow, she's really cute._

He didn't steal a kiss, even if he was sure he could have gotten away with it. That wasn't what a gentleman did, and Juniper Arc hadn't so much raised a gentleman as put the _fear of GOD_ in the mind of the pre-pubescent pervert. Still, it was okay to admire her peaceful face, wasn't it? A cute almond-shaped face with pale skin and silvery hair, grey eyes peering at him intently as he admired her.

Wait. Eyes…?

"Why are you staring at me while I sleep?" Trifa asked calmly.

Inside his head, a hundred little Jaunes ran around in terror as a klaxon sounded and red light flashed. One brave Jaune leapt forward and pulled a lever labelled `DEFLECT`.

"Why are you spooning me while I sleep?" he shot back.

Trifa blinked and looked down at herself. She didn't blush or stammer or show any discomfort. Slowly sliding her leg back across his, she pushed off and sat up, arching her back to work out the kinks. Jaune held back his whimper, missing the warmth already but comforting himself watching her shirt ride up her back as she stretched.

"Must have been cold," she murmured. "Sorry."

"No. Don't apologise." Come back. He'd take it back. Spoon more. "I – uh…"

Trifa looked back. "Hmm?"

"W-What time is it?"

"Four. Nearly time for our shift." Trifa stood and stretched, the motions doing wonderful things to her back and shoulders. Maybe this undercover business wouldn't be so bad after all. "We'd best get ready for it. We're meant to be eager for a new life after all. You ever worked a job before, boss?"

"No, actually. I had a paper round once…"

Trifa cracked a smile. "I think hauling lumber might be a little different…"

/-/

"Timberrrrr!"

The giant tree creaked and cracked, groaned and toppled, swishing down amongst its fellows, ripping branches from all the trees around it. It was a raucous sound as it fell, followed by an even greater crash when it struck the ground. All the faunus had long since gotten out the way, while the SDC personnel were further along already, the guards forming a loose perimeter around their pre-assigned lumber zone.

Already sweaty and with muscles aching, Jaune strode in with a much smaller axe, flanked by a host of other faunus. Their job wasn't to bring down the trees – that was done with chainsaws, thankfully – but to sheer off the branches and twigs, some of which were great big boughs. Luckily, the impact of it falling shattered the biggest, but that still left large chunks and snapped branches three times as thick as an arm to hew through.

Snapping through the thin ones first was easy. He swept the hand axe long with short little scrapes, knocking off branches and uneven knobs of wood. It was the boughs that were the problem. He braced a foot on the trunk and hacked at one, the axe immediately getting stuck and needing to be wriggled free. He'd cut in less than an inch.

A little further along, an older faunus held a small dust-powered saw to his own bough, chewing through it much more easily. Jaune glared half-heartedly, yanking his axe free and bumping into another faunus as he did.

"Sorry."

"S'fine." The dog-eared faunus was busy hacking at another bough.

Jaune decided to test his luck. "Hey. How do _we_ get a chainsaw to help?"

"Take 'em from camp," the man grunted. "Not worth it though."

"Why not? It looks easier."

"Y'have to rent 'em."

Jaune sagged, red faced. "We have to _rent_ out own tools!?"

"Fellers get chainsaw on the company," he replied, indicating the ones who had to cut the actual trunks down. "We don't. Look, I'm tryn' to work."

"Oh sorry."

"You there!" a sharp voice called out behind him and Jaune winced. Despite his best efforts to look busy, a hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him back. The man who'd shouted out was one of the SDC personnel, a supervisor dressed in blue and white. His face was as ugly as it was angry, stretched taut with a mouth that might have never smiled. "No disturbances on the job, employee. You want to chat - you chat _while_ you work or _after_. Am I understood?"

"Yes. I'm sorry."

"Yes what…?"

"Yes sir! I'm sorry, sir!"

The man huffed and pushed his shoulder away, moving on to bark out more orders. He was more like a drill sergeant than a supervisor, or more like what the movies said drill sergeants were like. Jaune kept his head down for the rest of the time it took to scrape the tree clean. At that point, several other faunus, among whom was Trifa, drove spikes into it with rings attached, then hooked chains into those before a flatbed vehicle came up to drag the tree away.

From what he understood, it would be taken to the sawmill where it would be shaved and cut into plants and logs, the rough logs to be sent off for refining at the SDC and the planks to be used in other ways, some even sold to Vale.

After three hours and six trees, his arms were on the verge of dropping off.

_This is hell…_

The ground was uneven, the forest was wet and humid, the trees were dusty and covered with sharp edges and his hands had splinters in them, to say nothing of the way his muscles and shoulders were in constant agony. The splinters, he could admit, were probably his fault. Most others wore gloves. He hadn't been offered a uniform though, and he had a feeling it might be tied behind another of the SDC's wonderful packages, much like the chainsaws.

"Timberrrr!" a faunus yelled.

Again? He was going to faint at this rate. Groaning, he hefted his axe and made his way over to the new trunk, trudging along with the other faunus. They were holding out better than he was, more used to the workload. Perhaps that was all it was.

_At least there's no whipping or branding going on._ He eyed the SDC supervisor. The man was checking something on his scroll and barking orders to the driver of the flatbed, more interested in the lumber than the workers. It didn't sound out of place. His job was to make sure the raw material went to the right places and that was what he was doing. _I almost wish they'd do something so I could call an end to this._

No. That wasn't right. He was meant to be hoping this _was_ fair, not trying to get out of it by wishing misery on the faunus here.

Annoyed with the thought and himself, he planted his foot down and got to work again, shaving the fallen trunk down. This time, he and the faunus worked in silence, tossing the boughs and branches behind them while the SDC kept watch.

/-/

By the time their shift was over he was a shell of a man. His arms hung at his sides and his clothes stuck to his skin, damp with sweat. He trudged through the compound's gate being counted and registered by the supervisor like prisoners returning from hard labour.

Again, he had to remind himself they were being protected from the Grimm. The SDC were just making sure no one was left out there in the wilds. There hadn't been any Grimm near the lumber zone, which was more than a little surprising. They'd been causing a hell of a noise with all the cutting. Either way, they hadn't been accosted and the guards had mostly stood around talking to one another.

_They were still there. If the Grimm came, everyone would have been grateful for them._

He sucked in a deep breath and let it go, following the faunus on autopilot. They made their way to the longhouse, where smoke and the smell of food promised an after-work dinner. On the inside, he was immediately reminded of a school canteen. Plenty of tables, a long queue, dinner servers – mostly older faunus – and metallic trays of slop they could spoon their food out of.

To be fair, it wasn't as bad as school. There were vegetables and meat, soup and some beef broth, but also burgers and fish. They were free to handle the portions themselves as well, and since plenty of the faunus ahead helped themselves to gigantic piles of food, he didn't feel too worried doing the same for himself.

The cooks didn't comment.

"Found you." Trifa drew out a seat next to him with her own plate. "Hefty work, huh?"

"I think I'm dying…"

"If you can complain, you're fine." Trifa dipped her spoon into a bowl of broth with glistening pieces of pork and dripping dancing atop, spooning it into her mouth and humming happily. "Ah. This is so good!"

Jaune cut and chewed on some of his own cooked beef. Tender and soft, it melted in his mouth. It _was_ good. Better than he got back home or could hope to make himself. Cheered a little, he began to eat in earnest. They didn't speak again until the food was gone, and both could sit back, sighing contentedly with full bellies.

"It's not so bad here."

"Huh?" Trifa looked over. "Because of the food?"

"Sure. I mean, they'd starve us if they were horrible, wouldn't they? Cut down on food to save money."

"Not if they wanted to keep us efficient. How long do you think we'd last with backbreaking labour and no food?" Not long, he had to admit. "It doesn't cost the SDC much to feed us. Even less to have the faunus already working here cook it for them. Don't be fooled just because they cover basic needs."

"It's not just that. There hasn't been any cruelty."

"Apart from the debt trap?"

"Apart from that," he conceded, "But how much of that is really unfair? I know we didn't see any Grimm today but there must be plenty out there. The guards and the walls are keeping everyone safe."

"I don't argue that, but land outside the cities tends to be _cheaper_ than within. Not more expensive." She looked around to make sure no one was listening in. The cafeteria wasn't loud, everyone was too tired for that, but the muted chatter did enough to drown them out. "The SDC are basically selling unclaimed land as premium real estate, then making us work to pay off the debt."

True. You could just claim land as your own if it were outside the walls. That wasn't to say you could claim an entire country and declare yourself king, but if he wanted to take a couple of acres, build a castle and call himself emperor Jaune of the forest folk, then no one would have cared. Except his family, who would no doubt weep when the Arc Empire was overrun by Grimm.

Villages and towns survived if they could both build a militia fast enough and find a way to eke out a living. Ansel survived by being an idyllic locale which wasn't _too far_ from the cities. As such, it became a retirement destination for huntsmen and huntresses, who even in their older years could still look after themselves. It kept surviving because it was large enough to function but not large enough to implode on itself like Mountain Glenn had.

Simply put, if you wanted to live in Ansel, it was easy. Claim a spot, build a house and – if it were outside the walls – either help to extend them yourself, or pay others to extend them. If you did all that, weren't a psychopath and didn't cause any problems, you were a welcome citizen, no rent, mortgages or purchase of land required.

The Schnee were basically making people but free territory with their packages here, but to be fair it did come with the surety of both employment and protection. Most frontier villages fell. Ansel was the exception to that, not the rule.

"People will pay for security," he said. "It's a trap, sure, but I don't think it's as bad as the place Bane worked at. They haven't tried to brand us yet."

"If they do…" she threatened.

"It's `moonlight` all the way to the end of the world," he agreed. He couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel to have a burning hot band of metal pressed and held into your skin. Didn't want to begin imagining it! "But right now it's a `sunlight` situation." He added that out of a vague fear Yuma might have already called the attack for saying the first code. "There's nothing obvious enough to start an attack on right now. Or do you disagree?"

"I do. But…" Trifa sighed. "I understand what you mean. We need _hard evidence_ to convince the naysayers. Everything so far is too circumstantial."

That hadn't been what he meant, and the fact bothered him a little. Trifa was basically saying the cruelty was obvious and that only the staunchly anti-faunus couldn't see it. He couldn't, and he didn't think he was anti-faunus. No, he was sure he wasn't. They were good people – even Trifa, Yuma and the others were fast becoming friends, as much as he felt that was a bad idea since they were _willing_ terrorists. He refused to believe he was racist.

_Am I blind instead? What is Trifa seeing that I'm not?_

Jaune let his eyes look over the faunus again. They were chatty and reserved but not nervous. Some were laughing and playing dice in the corner. It wasn't like a prison scenario where he imagined them being afraid to make noise and upset their overseers. There wasn't even a single SDC guard in the cafeteria, not even one to make sure they stayed in line.

Was that the distinction? He was _literally_ the only human in the building.

The SDC personnel would all be eating in the main building, and likely much richer food. The fact they were all human sparked some favouritism – he didn't deny that – but the food wasn't bad here either, and the longhouse was heated and warm. If it were drafty, uncomfortable and they were fed slop while their employers dined on fine meat, he might have had more to say.

"I really want to wrap this up either way…" he said.

"To get back to Vale before we're missed?"

"Yes. Of course." Totally not because the backbreaking labour was exactly that. "It wouldn't do to abandon all the faunus who need us, Trifa. That wouldn't do at all."

"No, I guess- Heads up." Trifa nodded to the entrance, where two SDC guards had entered the building, casting the hall into silence. They were armed but their guns were slung behind their backs on leather straps, more at rest than ready to be used.

"White." One of them called. "Where is Jaune White?"

His first instinct was to shrink down but Trifa elbowed his side to remind him he was a big, bad terrorist leader capable of killing Adam Taurus in single combat. While it didn't invigorate him any, it made him jump in his seat, scraping it across the floor. Every pair of eyes in the cafeteria turned to him, at which point it was too late.

"That's me!" He stood. Might as well _look_ brave now. "I'm Jaune White."

The two men nodded and approached, thankfully not reaching for their weapons. "You're being called to speak to the foreman," one said. "Please come with us."

He said please and hadn't pointed a gun at him. It sounded better than the horror stories from Bane's place. "O-Okay. Am I in trouble?"

"We were only told to escort you there. We apologise for any inconvenience."

That they answered at all was some relief, and that they called him White. They hadn't realised who he was just yet, being far enough away from the city to miss the broadcasts and news. Jaune offered his hands but they made no effort to cuff him, instead asking him to follow and walking calmly out. With one look back to Trifa, who shrugged, he chased after the guards.

/-/

"Mr White." Elizabeth Tanner, the foreman of the lumber camp, was dressed in a suit nod dissimilar to the one he'd met her in, except with a pale blue shirt under her navy blazer. The elderly woman's face was set with a polite smile as she nodded to the guards who had brought him. "You're dismissed. Spend the evening as you wish."

"But Miss foreman, who will guard you?"

"Oh come now, I don't need an armed guard here. I doubt Mr White is going to harm me. Isn't that right?"

"Of course," he answered honestly. "I've no reason to."

The guards exchanged a quick look. The one on the left nodded, and with a quick salute to the foreman, filed out the room, closing the heavy doors behind them. He'd been brought to her office and it looked like she was closing up for the day, the paperwork cleaned off the desk and a small glass sitting empty beside an open bottle of wine.

As he'd expected, the SDC building was only occupied by humans. It wasn't that much more opulent, however. Comparing this office to their room was one thing but he'd been led by a cafeteria for the SDC staff and it didn't look that much better, only less sparsely populated by virtue of there being fewer personnel to labourers.

Jaune shifted on the seat he'd been pushed down into, swallowing as he noticed the old woman staring at him intently. "Miss…?"

"Hm? Is something the matter, Mr White?"

"I was told I was summoned here. Am I in trouble?"

"Oh." Her lips curled upward and she chuckled into one hand. "I see. My apologies, I was lost in thought for a moment. You are and you aren't." When he looked confused, she added, "I had a report that you performed poorly today, below the standard we expect – however," she quickly said, "I'm aware it's also your first day, and allowances _are_ made. We hardly expect brand new employees to work at the level of more experienced members."

The supervisor from earlier must have reported him. Trifa hadn't been, and the fact made him flush with shame. "I-I'm sorry, Miss. It was only a moment and I was confused and asking another worker something. It won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't, but you need not worry regardless." Surprisingly kindly, she waved the issue away. He hadn't expected it. "The supervisor in question simply wasn't informed of any new staff and so wasn't aware. That's no one's fault. Your inclusion to our workforce was rather sudden after all. Either way, I hope you can forgive him."

"Sure. He was just doing his job."

"Wonderful. Would you like a drink?" Elizabeth reached for her bottle suddenly, pouring two glasses of red wine. "You do seem a little tense, Jaune. May I call you that?" Without waiting for an answer, she handed a glass over.

It would have felt too rude to say no at that point. He sipped, unsure what he was supposed to be tasting. It was strong and fruity, but all wine tasted the same to him. What little of it he'd tried back home. There certainly wasn't enough to ger drunk on.

"Thank you, Miss Tanner."

"You may call me Elizabeth here," she said. "Not on duty of course, but we're both outside of hours right now. It can be tiring having everyone be so formal. Alas," she sighed, "Business is business. That's one of the few downsides of working here. You can't go home and relax at the end of the day. Or I can't," she added, "I do hope you make a home for yourself here."

They were different, she was saying. Him and Trifa and every other faunus here had nowhere else to go, but she presumably came from Atlas and was only working here. Anywhere else, she could leave work and just be another person, but here she was the boss, which meant that even when work was over, people would still act differently around her. It was sad in a way. Then again, she'd chosen the job, so the money had to be good.

"What was that question you asked before?" Elizabeth asked. "The one that distracted you. If I can, I may as well answer it for you."

"Oh. It was about the chainsaws."

Elizabeth listened and nodded along, sipping her own wine and pouring a little more for each of them before speaking. "Yes, you have the right of it. We _do_ enable workers to take our power tools if they so wish, but it _does_ cost. That may seem unfair of us, I agree, but, well, have you heard of the dust shortage in Vale…?"

"I have. It's bad over there."

"It is, and that's made dust rather expensive as you might imagine. We need to cut down where we can and while a single power tool may not seem like much, scaling it up becomes more costly. Keep in mind it wouldn't just be one but hundreds to equip everyone. The costs rise."

"Oh. I can see why that would be bad."

"Yes." She was nodding along. "At the end of the day we're not so different from you, Jaune. We also have our targets from the SDC, and we must meet them. That comes both in the amount of lumber produced but also in sticking to the budgets issued. If we fail to do so, we get punished ourselves. Less pay, more oversight and sometimes a lesser budget for next year, which impacts everyone."

Just like any other company. "I see."

"The reason we still allow it at all is so that those faunus who feel too old, tired or are suffering chronic pain have a way to continue earning without stressing themselves further. They do have to cover the cost of dust, but we handle the maintenance for them."

"That's kind of you," he said with a smile.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Well, we've no interest in mistreating our employees. I understand that so soon after joining, you may feel yet more debt to be painful, but there are plenty of faunus here who have already paid off their debt. To them, they can rent out the additional tools and _still_ take home a healthy paycheck at the end of the month."

That was true, and those people would probably be earning more than him right now. Maybe he'd overthought it. The dust shortage was a real thing and prices were high – and since the lumber here was going to factories to refine dust, it would be backward to expend yet more dust on gathering it. The flatbeds used to pull the trees away ran on it, but those were necessary. They couldn't make faunus haul those massive trunks.

"You're not targeted for the first few weeks, Jaune. After that, the camp is targeted for lumber we bring in. Failure to meet the targets established by the company means loss of bonuses for every employee."

Every…?

"You mean if one person slacks, everyone loses out?"

"Yes. But it also means that slack can be picked up by the majority."

"Isn't that unfair?" he asked. "If you punish people who work hard because some are lazy…"

"On the contrary, I think it's _very_ fair. After all, I and every other member of the SDC here also lose our bonuses if that happens. In that way, we all suffer together. It also helps build community spirit." Elizabeth moved from her desk, stepping around it with her fingers trailing atop the surface. "But you needn't worry. We're particularly good at hitting our targets here. Everyone is a hard worker and you'll find your own stamina in time."

He tensed as she came near but the elderly woman didn't make any aggressive motions. Her hands found his aching shoulder and squeezed firmly, drawing forth an instinctive sigh as the muscles, still rock hard, twanged.

"My, you do seem tense." She squeezed down, coming behind him to hold both at once. "To do all that work, I'm not sure I'd be able to at my age. You're still quite young, plenty of room to grow out and already quite muscled from what I can see. You must have lived quite the healthy lifestyle."

"T-Thanks." He wasn't as buff as Bane – who was? – but he'd been intending to join Beacon, and while his skill was nowhere near that level, he'd been exercising a lot. "A-And yeah, I guess I just need the practice. Sorry for causing you trouble today."

"Hmm. It's no trouble." The hand on his left shoulder rubbed over and down, moving far past the point he expected it to rub back. The woman's fingers dipped into the collar of his shirt and below, down over his heart. "No problem at all. Hmm."

"M-Miss Tanner!?"

"Call me Elizabeth. Didn't I say that? And you're so tense, Jaune." Her other hand joined the fist, popping open one of his buttons as she drew his shirt open. "I know a way to help you relax."

The chair clattered as he kicked it out from under himself. His shoulder hit the floor and he scrambled away, back hitting her desk. His mouth hung open. No way. No way. "I-I think there's a misunderstanding," he blurted out, eyes wide and wild. "I-I should go."

The woman, easily old enough to be his _grandmother_, smiled coyly down on him, swaying her hips as she strode forward, heels clicking on the floor.

"I don't think there has been."

"I'm married!"

"I'm not." Standing before him, she trailed her foot up the inside of his knee. "And you should be grateful. I can do a lot for you, Jaune. How about some free equipment? Better lodging? I wouldn't say no to you sharing my room if you wish."

"M-Miss Tanner!" he shrieked.

"Elizabeth. Hmm. I've never really found faunus attractive before – too much fur or scales or other things." She shuddered. "But you, hmm, you look almost human. Human enough." Her knees hit the floor between his, the woman leaning forward. "It does get awfully lonely out here, and the guards are oh so stuffy. I wouldn't mind a young, virile man to keep me company."

"I'm married!" he said again. "I'm married and I love Trifa!"

Her fingers cupped his chin. "That can be changed."

"No." He shook his head and pushed her hand away, squirming out from between her and the desk. Pushing himself up, he gasped, buttoning his top up. "No, I – I don't want to. I'm sorry, Miss but you-" Too old. Not his type. A complete stranger. "It's not you," he lied. "Y-You're very attractive and all. It's me. I'm married and I don't want to ruin that. I love Trifa. I love her with all my heart."

"You-?" The wrinkles on her face drew together as she sneered. "I don't want your love. Only your body."

He shook his head. "It's still a no. I'm sorry if I made you thi-"

"I don't think you understand, Jaune." Rising, her face was cold, her eyes colder still. "I was not _asking_ for your permission. Allow me to explain this for you. I am the ruler here. I make the decisions. If I say you are a problem employee, you are a problem employee. If I say jump, you ask how high, Miss Tanner. I own you."

"The contract-"

"Means nothing!" she snapped. "What do you think will happen if I scream for my guards now?" Angrily, she ripped her shirt open, exposing wrinkled skin and a black bra. "How do you imagine this goes? Do you think they will believe you didn't force yourself on me? Do you think they'd believe I, of all people, would lower myself to bed one of _your kind_?"

"M-My kind…?"

"Faunus. Who else? I'll give you one more chance – and only because I'm feeling generous. Throw this back at me and I'll have you cast out of this camp."

"At this point, ma'am, I think I'll take it my wife and go."

"Take her? And how, Jaune, do you propose to cover your debt? Mrs White has quite the loan to repay. Running out on that, well, it just wouldn't do. You would be an exception, cast out as a criminal, but she would be expected to stay and pay off both hers and your side of the debt."

What!? That wasn't right. "You can't do that."

"Oh? And why not, pray tell?"

"Because it's illegal!" he said, almost whispered. However powerful the SDC was, they still had to follow the law. "It's against the laws of Vale. Against the laws of any Kingdom!"

"The law? Jaune, I _am_ the law!" she shrieked. "The SDC is the law! What I say goes, whatever that be! Maybe expelling you would be too kind. I could make things worse for everyone else instead. Make it so that you never hit your targets and so every other faunus fails as well. They'd know to blame you. Or maybe I'll make it your _wife_ who is blamed, hm? How will you cope when everyone hates your guts? Knowing that everyone is suffering because _you_ rejected the offer of a lifetime!"

He didn't think losing his first time to an old age pensioner was that, let alone one as shrill as a banshee and channelling every evil headmistress trope he could imagine.

Jaune ducked around the desk, keeping it between them.

Elizabeth slammed her hands down on it, watching him with sharp eyes. "Last chance, Jaune. We can still have our fun. Stop running and I'll let you learn what it feels like to be with a _real_ woman. Not some filthy animal masquerading as one."

Jaune let out a long breath and relaxed, standing straight.

"That's right. Good boy." I may have to punish you a little…" Her eyes lingered on his bared chest. "But who's to say that can't be enjoyable for the both of us?"

"I do, bitch!" Elizabeth froze and turned, meeting Trifa's fist head on. The woman dropped like a puppet with her strings cut, crumpling on the floor at the angry faunus' feet. And Trifa was angry, burning red with rage and shaking with her fist clenched tight. She spat on Tanner. "You give women a bad name. Be thankful that was my fist and not a knife."

He didn't think he'd ever been happier to see an angry terrorist.

"You okay, boss?"

"Y-Yeah. I… I think so. Holy… You saved my life."

"Not your life," she said, "But maybe something just as important."

He wanted to say his virginity, but it went deeper. His pride. His sense of self. All she'd done was touch his chest, but he felt _sick_. There was nothing he wanted more than the chance to scrape that spot clean, preferably until the top few layers of skin had been removed. There was a very real urge to rush over and hug Trifa, more for his own comfort than to thank her. The only reason he didn't was because he was afraid he'd cling to her too tightly and they were currently in the office of their boss, with her unconscious on the floor. Not exactly the time to share a moment.

"H-How did you find me?" he asked, hating the stammer he couldn't control. "No, not that." Of course she knew where to find him. He was in the main building. "How did you know? How did you know I was in trouble?"

Glaring on the downed woman again, she shook her head. "One of the faunus women warned me what might happen. Apparently, _this_ is a common occurrence, especially among young, handsome men who join. They wanted me to know any infidelity on your part wouldn't be intentional."

Oh gods. And not all of them had Trifa to protect them…

"Those that refuse suffer." Trifa bit off with a hiss. "Most are too desperate to do so and give in. I asked among the women; it doesn't happen with the male guards thankfully. It's just her. But they know it happens and don't stop it. I guess when you're the only authority figure for a hundred miles…"

Her word was law.

The debt traps were one thing, the backbreaking labour another, but this was the final straw. Not all abuse was as obvious as what Bane went through, it seemed. Not everyone branded, beat and experimented on people like livestock. Some just wanted to squeeze what lien they could out of unfair terms and unreachable bonuses. And some just wanted to bask in their sense of superiority.

In the end, the difference was only in the detail. Jaune thumbed his lapel, fingers shaking.

"Moonlight. Moonlight, Yuma. Moonlight this place to the ground."

/-/

In Vale, Lisa Lavender's glass of wine clinked down on her home office desk. The light from the laptop washed over her face, illuminating a perfectly smooth face caked with all the makeup her job demanded of her. It was usually set in with a pleasant smile, the better to fit the expectations of her viewers. Always smiling, always professional, no matter what she was reporting.

For once, that smile had faltered and died.

She'd kept an air up when reporting murder, scandal and Grimm attacks. In a way, she'd fought herself immune to the contents of what she made news on, but watching live as Jaune Arc, wanted terrorist, accepted a comforting hug from his teammate and sniffled audibly, she let out a heavy sigh and pushed back from the screen.

That would have to be edited out. The weakness. The rest would stay.

Editing couldn't remove the fact she'd heard it however, or the rather surprising surge of absolute rage she felt inside. It shocked her. She wanted the best story and he was providing that, so she ought to have been content whatever the circumstances.

Well, it wasn't like this wouldn't make for a good story either. With the others hurrying in to close down this camp, it would be up to her to prepare her story for when the news hit, and she knew _just_ where she was going to start it. Minimising the video, she opened her database and typed in a name, bringing up any related news stories relating to one Elizabeth Tanner. Smiling, she cracked her fingers.

_I'm about to end this bitch's whole career._

/-/

"**BOOM! BOOM! WEEE-WOOO! WEEEEE-WOOO**!"

Yang shrieked and tried to jump out of bed, realised at the last second she was in the top bunk and quickly got power-driven into the floor by gravity. A foot then stepped on the back of her head, Blake trying to scramble out and tripping over her. She hit the ground hard, pulling her blankets over Yang and blinding them both.

Judging from the noise, Ruby and Weiss were no better.

Ripping the blankets off her head, hair sticking up at every angle, Yang _glared_ bloody murder at the person currently screaming in their room.

"Who the _hell_ let you in our room, Coco, and why?"

"**WEE-WOOO**!" Coco shouted at the top of her lungs, fully dressed and indeed stood in Team RWBY's room for some godforsaken reason. "**THIS IS THE PR ALARM! BOOM! BOOM! BAD PR SHELLS RAINING DOWN ON US! BOOM! IT'S A PR-ARTILLERY BARRAGE**!" she yelled. "**TIME FOR THE RWBY RANGERS TO BE UP AND ABOUT! GO, GO, RWBY RANGERS!"**

Yang flung a pillow.

Sadly, it didn't kill Coco on the spot.

"Bad PR…?" Blake sat up, eyes wide. "You mean a White Fang attack!?"

"Got it in one, Edgy Ranger. The White Fang led by the man himself have hit an SDC camp outside Vale. The news landed not ten minutes ago – which, by the way, you should have seen already. How lax are you four?"

"We were asleep!" Weiss yelled.

"News does not sleep, nor does the White Fang apparently! Set your scroll to alarm if a story about them lands." Coco rolled her eyes like that was the most obvious thing in the world, which it damn well wasn't! Yang punched the carpet and extricated herself from the mess, already knowing they were screwed because `White Fang` had been mentioned and Blake was trying to speed run the act of getting dressed.

"Gah. What's our job? Go in there and save the SDC?"

"Nope."

"Then what?" Weiss demanded. "It's an attack on my family's company!"

"If we're hearing about the attack now, then it's almost certainly over, and unlike you four, I've read the news." It wasn't good, they could tell that from Coco's eyes. "Your job is going to be playing late response, and believe me, we're not saving the SDC. We're arresting them."

"WHAT!?" Weiss yelled shrilly.

"Read the article." Coco tossed the scroll at her. "It's a shitshow, believe me. There's no good we can do, but we can prevent things getting worse. This is the SDC's muck up, but there's still time to make it clear Vale didn't play a part – and to save a bunch of people before the White Fang do what they usually do with captured prisoners. We're law keepers, kiddos. That means criminals are judged in a court of law, not at the end of a gun."

"Oh my… N-No, this can't be right. My father would never-"

"Your father wasn't there. Neither were you and it's gonna be important to remind everyone of that." Coco took the scroll from Weiss' nerveless fingers. "And the guilt is something to be decided in court. Our job isn't to make that decision, only to show that Beacon isn't going to sit by and do nothing while this goes on. And to remind people that the best way to stop a tragedy _isn't_ to pass the information onto terrorists but the proper authorities. If the faunus felt they could trust the police, this wouldn't – shouldn't – have happened. Looks like we're not the only ones being left to look like idiots."

"You're taking this personally," Yang said.

"I have a faunus teammate with confidence problems who _still_ sometimes flinches when a person comments on her ears." Coco cocked an imaginary shotgun and pulled her sunglasses over her eyes. "It's personal. Let's bust some heads."

"Jaune Arc's head?" Blake asked hopefully.

"Ha ha – _No_! You so much as try, and I'll have you doing presentations to children for the rest of your natural born life. Now come on, I've got some skank-ass cowbag to introduce to huntress brutality."

"Wouldn't that be _bad_ for our PR?" Ruby asked.

"Nope."

"But-"

"Nope!"

Coco stormed out the room with the full expectation they'd follow and a Bullhead probably waiting for them to do just that. Still only half dressed but also _fully_ convinced Coco would leave without them if they were late, Yang and the rest of her team stumbled out after her.

* * *

**I'm aware this chapter covered a sensitive subject. Not the best inclusion for a cracky story, I admit. It was planned in advance and it was funny in my head at the time when it was just a note, but the second I started writing it and got to this point I was like "Ughhh… Not funny." **

**That's why I tried to keep it short and basically to take out any "comedy" elements from the last scene entirely. All in all, the first touch to end is 1,300 words, so I speed-wrote it. I did try and think of a different ending to skip this out, but I just couldn't.**

**The debt trap was only one part of the abuse, and in a way the canon things we've heard of the SDC doing are no less horrific than this. The branding and all. I wanted a subtler form of abuse so that Jaune could reasonably doubt it in the first chapter, and to show that institutionalised racism doesn't always have to be so painfully obvious. "Civilised societies" usually find glossy terms to avoid it, and ways to get around it without being labelled. **

**But I do kind of think that lesson might have suited a more serious story.**

**All I can say is that it's only 1,300 words in 6,500 of text, and that the story itself is going to go back to comedy after. There just has to be **_**some cruelty**_** on the part of the camps or the boss (like the previous boss they busted) because without it, there's no motivation for Jaune and the WF to act in the best interests of the people. **

**Maybe I'm a little too sensitive. It might be more me overblowing this than anything else. I kind of felt the same in that Konosuba movie though, which as a whole I liked, but when that orc scene happened my laughter turned brittle and just sort of trailed away. I didn't find that funny, but a lot of people were laughing like hyenas, so maybe I'm wrong about it here as well. It didn't ruin the movie for me by any means, it just made me feel bad for that scene.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 12****th**** May**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	14. Chapter 14

**Here we go. No trigger warnings for this chapter.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 14**

* * *

Someone had muzzled Elizabeth Tanner. He wasn't sure who, but he couldn't say he minded since she'd been screaming about how the SDC would never stand for this, she `knew people` and they'd regret ever daring to cross her. Now she had a sock stuffed in her mouth and a leather strip pinning that in, and though it didn't stop her glaring at them, it spared them the noise.

The SDC personnel were arranged nearby, down on their knees with hands on their heads. The weaponry had been confiscated with a promise of safety if they complied. The whole thing had been over remarkably quickly, the guards no match for White Fang that were, while not huntsmen and a fair bit weaker, still stronger than the average guard for a far-flung lumber camp.

"We've had the faunus gather up all their belongings," Perry came up to tell him. "There are a number of lorries the SDC use to transport lumber. We'll be setting people up on those to get them out."

"Get them out where?" Jaune asked. It wasn't something he'd ever considered. "It's not like the White Fang can take people to the nearest city. Where do you normally send them?"

"Menagerie. Though if any have family or relatives nearby, we're happy to drop them off there. Some might want to go to the city as well. We take them as close as we can, usually within walking distance."

Right. They'd been doing this for long enough to have plans in place. How big was Menagerie? If the White Fang were taking everyone there, it had to be large. Then again, people had wanted to expel all the faunus on Remnant there, so it had to be big enough to house them. _With how poorly they're treated, part of me thinks it might have been a better idea if they accepted. At least then they'd be happy._

It was a terrible thought and he hated himself for it a second later. That attitude was like letting someone punch you in the face because fighting back might make it worse. It didn't address the root problem and it meant allowing the racism. Jaune cupped a hand to his face, slumping back against the side of their vehicle.

"Hey." Perry bumped his fist into Jaune's shoulder. The masked faunus wore a soft frown. "I know it's not my place – you're the boss and all – but there's nothing wrong with feeling bad about what happened. We all heard it, and no one thinks less of you. It was sickening."

"Perry."

"I know. I know. I'm just saying don't feel ashamed." He paused. "If you can. Man, I have _no idea_ how to do this." He opened his arms and asked, "Hug?"

Amusement bubbled up and out in a loud laugh that drew the attention of a few people nearby before they decided watching the leader of the local White Fang laughing might be bad for their health. "It's fine," he said, shaking a little. "And thanks, Perry. I appreciate the thought." Even if he had no idea how to help. "I'm actually not thinking about that. It's something else."

Perry didn't look entirely convinced but nodded anyway. "Okay, boss. Just know everyone is there, okay? You can talk to Deery or Yuma about it. They were up in arms!"

"Thanks." Jaune smiled. "And thanks for coming when I called Moonlight. That was a fast response."

"Ah." Perry scratched his cheek. "About that… We kinda didn't _hear_ you call `Moonlight`. And the reason the attack came so fast is, well, the moment she started trying that shit, we just sort of decided that was it. Bane was out the truck, Yuma was weapons ready and the rest of us just sort of chased after." He shrugged. "If you called it after, we missed it. Sorry?"

Those guys. Jaune's eyes closed and a slow smile spread. He drew in a long breath and let it go, relaxing back. "Thank you all for that."

"We're White Fang, boss. We look after our own."

He cocked a smile. "Except Adam?"

"Oh come on, that's not fair. What were we meant to do to a guy who just killed Adam like that? Besides, it all worked out. I'm sure Adam would be happy knowing his legacy bought the White Fang such stellar leadership."

Jaune snorted. He had it on good authority Adam was in fact _not_ very happy at all.

A loud mechanical humming spread out over the clearing, growing louder and stronger over the treetops. Jaune looked back along with Perry, pushing off the truck. Thanks to the lumber camp doing its job, the trees nearby had all been brought low, giving them an unobstructed view of the three Bullheads approaching at speed.

"Uh-oh," Perry said. "This can't be good."

/-/

Ruby stared out the window down onto the lumber camp below. The prisoners had already been arranged out, sending a spike of fear through her lungs. There was movement though, which meant they were alive. For now. Blake had told them what the White Fang usually did with prisoners, which in itself wasn't too terrible. The White Fang usually ransomed them back or, if they weren't valuable in that way, disarmed and let them go.

Then she told them what the White Fang did to _SDC prisoners,_ and their relief nosedived.

"Look alive, ladies!" Coco shouted. "And more than that, look confident, pretty and awake! We know for a fact they're streaming this live to somewhere in Vale and you can best your lily-white butts this'll be all over the news. This is your debut, your redemption. Weiss, have you read over the news report?"

"Y-Yes. I… I can't believe someone would do this in my family's name! It's sickening!"

"Good. Keep that attitude. People are going to be looking at you closely since your family is involved here. Outrage is good. Show over telling, sweetheart. Your father might tell people he's pro-faunus, but his actions don't support it. Time for you to show him how it's done. Blake." Coco frowned. "You remember my instructions?"

Blake gritted her teeth. "Weapon stays sheathed."

"Damn right it does. Open the doors. Let's go!"

"Shouldn't we wait for the Bullhead to land!?"

Coco's answer was to wrench the door open, blasting wind inside and making their hair fly back. "PR, baby!" she roared, hurling herself out. Yang spared the barest moment to look at Weiss and shrug, but Ruby was already in freefall, twisting her body down to get her feet under her. Ironically enough, all this PR business wasn't so bad. She'd spent her whole life trying to be the cool huntress and Coco had taken one look at her dramatic moves, flashy fighting style, flying rose petals and proclaimed her perfect. Plus, who didn't want to make an entrance jumping out a Bullhead?

Aura flared as she hit the dirt, kicking up dust around her. Rather than stay crouched, she flourished Crescent Rose and twisted it aside, slashing the dusty air away and rising with the haft against her shoulder like a huntress straight out the cartoons. Yang would have called her a nerd, but Coco said playing up the ham only made them more appealing.

_I can do ham. I can really do ham!_

"Have no fear!" she shouted out, trying for her least squeaky voice. "For Beacon is here!"

Even mid-landing Yang managed to groan despairingly. Hey. It was an entrance. Coco liked it, giving her a quick nod. It told everyone watching – and that was the people watching the recordings, not the White Fang – that they were here on behalf of the school. A fast response team and not just a bunch of huntresses having their fun in the wilds.

The White Fang had drawn together while they made their landing. Ruby took the chance to count them and realised a few were missing. Maybe they were the ones organising the stream back to Vale. Either way, the leader was here. Jaune Arc. The most wanted and potentially the most dangerous faunus in Vale.

He wasn't even wearing a mask. Coco had told them how genius that small move was, throwing away his anonymity to better sell his image and the White Fang. It was a sacrifice for sure, but one he was apparently willing to make.

"I am Ruby Rose," she said, walking forward. Her team let her go alone as per the plan. This was the hardest bit for her because it meant speaking, but at least it was mostly off a script. Easier than trying to make small talk. "Leader of Team RWBY of Beacon. We're here to ensure justice is done by the laws of Vale. Not the White Fang."

No one stepped up to speak with her. Were they in awe? Did she look stupid? Ruby tried hard not to quake as the faunus looked between themselves before, with a shove from one of them, Jaune Arc was pushed forward. He all but stumbled toward her, making Ruby back up a hasty step. Her speed would keep her safe, but this guy apparently took on Adam Taurus, who Blake had said was stronger than any of them.

"I'm Jaune," he said. He had a strangely nice voice. "And I guess I'm the leader of the White Fang here."

"You guess…?" He shrugged, and Ruby coughed. "A-Anyway, you're to surrender the prisoners you've taken to us." The SDC personnel all picked up, and Ruby noted with some despair that the horrible woman they'd read and heard over their scrolls was laughing past a gag victoriously. After listening to the streamed video, she didn't like that.

"And they'll what?" he asked angrily. "Be let go? That woman-" He stopped, closed his eyes and drew a breath. "Will they be allowed to walk free?" Odd as it might have sounded, she felt sorry for him. Even a little angry on his behalf. That made the next bit easier.

"No!" Her eyes caught the shock on the woman's face. "They'll be brought back to Vale to face full justice in a court of law."

"Elizabeth Tanner has spat on everything that represents my family," Weiss called out. It wasn't as spontaneous an interruption as it may have sounded but only the fact she spoke at all was planned. The words were hers, as was the absolute rage she wore. "I've listened to what was said, and I can't _believe_ someone would abuse a position my family gave to their own ends like that! If she walks free, I will personally sue for defamation and ensure she never works in Atlas again!" Her foot stomped down. "This, I swear!"

"There you go," Ruby said. "If you can't believe Weiss, please believe me. We're also going to check out the other camps around here and interview the faunus. There's going to be an inquiry." Led by Ozpin. "They're going to check living conditions, payment and offer any faunus within a chance to move to Vale if they want to, with subsidies for living and getting them on their feet. The same goes for any faunus here that want to come with us," she added in a louder voice. "You'll receive support from the city free of charge."

Because Vale was prepared to _pay them_ not to become White Fang. It didn't sound right to her, nor to her team, partly because it felt like rewarding bad behaviour, but also because it all but assumed every faunus here _would_ become a terrorist. It was unfair no matter which way you looked at it, but Coco sorted them out with one sentence.

"_If it works, it works."_

"All we ask is that you don't kill the prisoners here," she finished.

"We were never going to kill them. Our intention was always to spare them."

Ruby grinned. "I believe you."

Because it would be PR suicide. By Coco's own words – they had the sympathy of the city, and their respect, so a mass execution live streamed across Vale would be a quick way to ruin that. It was still something they wanted to stop, because there was a chance the White Fang might not care and might kill the prisoners anyway, but she could totally believe Jaune had looked beyond that and realised it would be a bad idea.

After all, he was a genius. Coco had made that clear.

"Will you let us take them, then?"

"Sure. It saves us the trouble. There is one thing, though…"

He scratched his cheek. It was a surprisingly nervous action, and she wondered why he'd show that on air. Ruby had suffered through Coco blasting an airhorn at her whenever she showed a nervous tick for the last few days. Fidget. Airhorn. Bite her lip. Airhorn. Stammer. Airhorn. Kick her feet against the floor. Airhorn.

_Maybe it's intentional. Why, though? Why intentionally look worried?_

"Are we going to fight?"

Ruby blinked. "Eh?"

"The last time you appeared we ended up in a big fight that wrecked the docks. I'm wondering why you're not attacking us right here. Or are _we_ expected to surrender along with the prisoners we're giving over to you?"

"Wha-? Oh no, no, no." She waved her hands. That was why he was looking nervous! Ack, he was making them look like the bad guys! "We're here to see justice done. You're terrorists, but you haven't done anything wrong _here_. Yet. As long as you let the prisoners go and don't try to force the faunus into the White Fang, we'll let you leave this time." Planting her feet down, she said, "But only this time! The reason we're not fighting is because it would put all these people at risk when the Grimm come to investigate."

There. And now all the people who would ask the obvious `why didn't you stop the White Fang` would have an answer as well. That was another lesson from Coco, that people would pick apart your actions after the fact and call you stupid for any little mistake, as though if they'd been in the same spot they would have been able to see every angle, every consequence and every solution with all the benefit hindsight offered.

It was hard, okay!? Here she was, fifteen and negotiating with a terrorist for the release of captured prisoners. This wasn't something Signal covered in its pre-fifteen curriculum. If people complained, they should come try it themselves! Pouting, she said, "Do we have a deal?"

At this point, Coco didn't mind if it went either way. If they agreed, they looked good for taking control, diffusing the situation and preventing any deaths. If the White Fang refused, they'd have public approval to take them down in the name of self-defence. And given how the fight went at the docks, she was sure her team could do it. Unfortunately, he knew that as well.

"Deal."

/-/

Was it his imagination or were the huntresses disappointed that he accepted? If so, he could imagine why. It had only been a few days since the docks. Hurrying back, he had the White Fang corral up the prisoners and move them over to the Bullheads, and the faunus as well, who would have a much safer journey to Vale by air than stolen trucks.

"Boss." Yuma drew him aside to whisper in his ear. "Is this a good idea? All these faunus are potential recruits. If we let them go like this, we'll be missing out the chance to convince them to join us."

Good? Ideal? Perfect? That was exactly what he wanted. "It's fine, Yuma. I have a plan. Trust me."

"Ah." The bat faunus winked and mimed a zip over his mouth. "Got it."

The plan was – wait for it – to do nothing. To accept this nice offer, hop back in their truck and drive back to Vale before the nice huntresses decided to re-enact the docks version two, the dockening, now with more splattered Jaune. And hey, Sienna couldn't even complain because he could just say he had to accept their offer or put the innocent faunus at risk, which would negatively impact their recruitment chances.

Too bad. Such a shame. Much loss. Many regrets.

"Right," he instructed. "In the truck. Quickly now, before the huntresses realise we're driving a combustible vehicle and they're in flying aircraft with a sniper rifle." He practically pushed Deery onto Bane's lap. "Up. Up. Up!"

Searing pain cut through his head. For a horrifying second, he thought he'd been shot. The pain went away a second later however, but it continued to throb. Reminding him of something. Jaune looked back, saw the huntresses and noticed the closest one lingering and watching them, glaring his way. Blake Belladonna, Adam's ex-girlfriend.

Oh crap. That explained the headache.

Now, though? Of all the times Adam could try and throw him under the bus. Crap. Biting his lip, he checked the other huntresses. They were seeing to the prisoners and faunus and a good distance away. They'd agreed to let him go so if he went and spoke to her, she couldn't attack him, could she? Maybe. If she threw caution to the wind.

His head pulsed again.

"Ow. Okay. I get it!"

"Boss?" Trifa asked from the passenger seat.

"Get the engine going and wait for me." He pushed back and away. "I just need to handle something real quick."

He'd have liked to say he caught her by surprise but that would have been impossible. Her eyes had been locked on him since the very start and she stared him down as he approached, the corners of her lips dragging further and further down. No one could have accused him of being the best around the fairer sex, but he felt confident enough to say she didn't like him. Just a shot in the dark. The way she tensed up told him he was close enough, and that was with a good ten feet between them.

"What do _you_ want?" she hissed, voice flat and sharp.

To go home, have a nice long bath and forget this ever happened. "You were White Fang once, weren't you?" Her eyes fell to his chest for some reason. No answer came. Oops, the video feed. He'd as good as outed her – and there was no way she'd confirm that. "Or I could be wrong," he added, trying to fix the damage. Adam was going to kill him. Well, metaphorically speaking. "I thought Adam had once been with someone like you, but I might be mistaking things."

Her fingers dug into her own forearms, lips drawing thin and eyes narrow. He didn't need to read minds to know he was stepping into dangerous territory. _Damn it, Adam. Couldn't you have normal requests like a normal undead ghost spirit living in a guy's head?_ Insult him. Insult him. He had to insult Adam. To his girlfriend. To his ex-girlfriend who thought he had killed said man. Jaune's courage had already been flopping about on the floor like a fish out of water, but it somehow managed to find new lows.

"Adam was a useless leader and the White Fang are better off without him." There, he'd said it! Jaune performed a ten-point pirouette on one heel and quickly hurried away, picking up the pace as he felt her gaze burn a hole in his spine.

Before he could full escape, he heard her call out, "You'll pay for what you did, Arc. I'll make sure of it."

Welp. That felt like a threat – because it probably was. Scurrying back to the truck and up into the back, he snapped "Drive!" at Perry and clung on for dear life, somehow still able to feel Blake's eyes transfixing him as the vehicle pulled away from the lumber camp.

"You know," Yuma said, "If you wanted to steal little everything Adam had in life, I'd suggest picking a different girl. I know she's popular among the edge lord division and all, but I'm not sure she likes you very much."

"Yuma."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Yes boss."

/-/

"Blake threatened you."

"I know!" Jaune wailed, pacing around in his own head, or his brain, soul or whatever the heck the space Adam occupied was. "Did you see the way she looked at me? Like she wanted to flay my skin off and burn me alive."

"I know." Adam smiled whimsically. "Wasn't it beautiful?"

"No! And she literally wants to kill me!"

"Yeah…" Again, Adam sighed like a young teen discovering love for the first time. "My heart skipped a beat when she said it. Or, well, not my heart since I don't have one, but you get the picture. Blake wants to kill you. Blake _despises_ your very existence."

"I know." Jaune groaned. "This is terrible!"

"This is wonderful."

"…"

"Blake hates your guts, which means she cares about me." Adam somehow managed to look even more creepy than a dead terrorist should, shivering with delight. "That means her feelings for me didn't completely fade. I'm still important to her, even after death." He sighed dreamily. "Just as she is to me, the love of my life. I'm watching over you, Blake. Always. Or at least I'm watching when the idiot whose head I'm stuck in looks your way."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. _I almost prefer the psychotic Adam. _Groaning again, he willed up a wall to slam his face into. Sadly, his whatever-the-hell-this-place-was didn't work like that. "I can't believe I did that."

"I know," Adam agreed. "I didn't think you'd have the guts."

"I wish I hadn't. Oh man, I can still feel her eyes watching me."

"Blake does have beautiful eyes. So full of emotion."

Great. He had an obsessive ex in his head. Now he _really_ wished he could have angry-murder-Adam back. If there was one shining light in the dark it was that the man's emotions weren't bleeding into him or any some such, because romantic feelings for Blake were the last thing he needed right now. Or maybe the first if he wanted to end this miserable experience. It hadn't even been a good insult. To be fair, he wasn't sure he could have managed better when it meant insulting the dead. Even this dead prick, who really deserved all the insults he could get.

"Great. So we know Blake still holds a candle for you – and now she wants to set me on fire with it. Wonderful. Can we move onto White Fang business now? What did you think of the raid? Did we do it well?"

"Hm? Ah yes. The raid. It was… passable, I suppose."

Jaune frowned. "What would you have changed?"

"I'd have executed the SDC prisoners."

"Why am I asking you for advice again?"

Adam shrugged. "Desperation, I think."

"Oh, right. That was it." Jaune pointed at the dead man. "No! Bad Adam! Bad!"

"I'm a bull. Not a dog." The man crossed his arms and flicked off his mask, exposing the horrifying brand cut across his eye. It looked all the worse because he still wore the sappy Blake-infused smile, which really didn't suit him. "But aside from that, it went well enough. As best as _you_ could manage it anyway. The message has been sent and Vale will be forced to act for the betterment of the other labour camps."

"True. That saves us having to do it…"

Adam cocked his head, smile fading. "Something is bothering you."

"Y-Yeah. It's… It's not what happened. I feel icky about that but it's over and she'll face justice. That's not what's bothering me. It's…" He sighed, shrinking in on himself. "I don't know how to say it without coming across heartless."

"You never truly believed the faunus were being abused."

It was a fist to his gut and Jaune's response was immediate, "No, I knew-"

"You knew," Adam interrupted. "But you never truly believed. Not fully. That's common, you realise. To know of the existence of prejudice is not the same as knowing what it feels like, any more than knowing how a car works will let you drive one. Faunus are insulted and kicked out of some cafes, and you accept that's unfair, but you thought that was the extreme of it. You thought our anger was misled, or that we were overreacting. That deserves a boycott, not armed insurrection. The White Fang is wrong to take it so far. Violent extremists. Does that sound right?"

Feeling like the scum he was, Jaune nodded. To his surprise, Adam laughed. A genuine and not cruel laugh. "Adam…?"

"Ha. It's – hmhm." He brought himself back to a chuckle, shaking his head. "How ironic is this? The one thing I've always wanted and it's from the man who killed me and usurped my life. How wonderfully ironic." He sighed, but still looked a little pleased. "What you are experiencing, Arc, is a revelation. It is empathy wrapped up in sudden understanding that your worldview was not as you thought it was."

"I don't understand."

"Good. That means it's working. Did you know that most humans aren't racist? I accept that. It's the minority who act against us faunus, and even a minority of that minority who do as that woman did to you. Most people don't care what features we have and would happily let us live our lives among them. They're not racist, I admit, but they're not as open-minded as they like to think they are either. They believe that they're pro-faunus when all they really are is anti-racist. They'll sneer and sniff at those speaking out about the faunus and they'll think that makes them good people."

"Doesn't it?" Jaune asked.

"It makes them not bad people," Adam said with a shrug. "But good is not just the absence of evil; it is the presence of good…"

The presence of good. Adam was right. It felt so right.

"It's not enough to _not_ be cruel. It's not enough to do nothing, ignoring the faunus that are abused and killed and then consider yourself a saint because you _didn't_ tell one to leave your diner." Adam pointed at him. "You're discovering that now. You were never a horrible person, I'll admit. You're an idiot, a liar and a fraud, but even surrounded by my kind, you never looked down on them."

Jaune frowned at the floor. "But I never tried to fix anything either. I just… I tried my best to be nice and not do anything wrong without seeing the bigger picture. Is that it?"

"Yes. And now you've not only witnessed the true depths of depravity, but you've experienced it as well. You felt what it feels like to be considered _less_ of a person, to be intrinsically _less human_ and _less valuable_ than someone else. It shocked you. Appalled you. But more than that, what truly horrifies you is that you never noticed this happening before. You never believed it could be this bad. You convinced yourself it was all an exaggeration."

He was right. He hadn't. All those times before with the debt trap and everything else, he'd convinced himself there were explanations for it, that the faunus wanted the protection or the SDC had to cover the expenses or something else. He'd been making excuses for them, clinging to anything that meant he could believe the problem wasn't as bad as it was.

"Does… That makes me a horrible person, doesn't it?"

"On the contrary. It makes you one of the better ones." Adam huffed. "Listen close for I won't compliment you a second time. You experienced it and you hated it. Your eyes have been opened and you're accepting that you were wrong – which makes you better than all the people who would have seen it and refused to change, who would have closed their eyes and minds against it and gone back to their ignorant bliss. That you hate yourself for your ignorance speaks good of you. Not ill. If more humans were like you, the White Fang might have succeeded in its peaceful iteration."

"I don't think I'm all that special."

"You're not. I'd say three quarters of all humans are like you – the only difference being, they'll never experience what true prejudice feels like. Thus, their eyes will never be opened, and they'll live their lives believing that all they need do is smile at a faunus and everything is alright."

Not because they were bad people, but because they didn't know better. How could they when you were taught to let people do as they wish, or that you shouldn't rise to meet the bullies but strive to be better than them. That very advice all but allowed those people to continue as they were, but maybe that was the point of it. The Kingdoms felt perfect equality was impossible. What they wanted was stability, and some things had to be sacrificed to achieve that.

"I feel like my head is about to explode."

"That's your worldview falling to pieces around your ears," Adam said, full of smug satisfaction. "That's a human finally understanding what it means to be faunus."

"Distract me," Jaune begged. "Distract me with something easier to handle."

Adam raised an eyebrow and snorted. "As you wish. Let me tell you the first time Blake and I met…"

"No! I take it back! I'll have the pain. I'll take the stress!"

"It was love at first sight. Her eyes like chips of topaz, her hair blowing in the wind, ebony tresses that carried the scent of elderberries. I was young then, you see, but I knew in my heart that I'd never seen such a beautiful creature. But it was more than that, it was her fire that drew me. Her passion…"

"Adam? Adam, no! Stop, please!"

"And when her hand touched mine, my heart soared-"

"Arghhh!"

There was no escape.

/-/

"Will those faunus really be cared for?" Ruby asked Coco. They were being led away by people from Vale's Council, corralled into an area where they could be documented. "They will, won't they? I don't want to think we saved them only for them to become homeless or be unemployed."

"The city will look after them," Coco replied. "Not because it cares, sadly, but because we've put them on the spot. If they don't when we promised they would, they'll look like monsters. And since votes matter for those in power, they'll do anything to ride the wave of popularity."

Ruby frowned. "That feels wrong. They should help because it's the right thing to do."

"They should," the older girl agreed.

The absence of a follow up bothered her more than she cared to admit. They should, but nothing. That was it. They should. That was all she'd get. The faunus looked so unsure and afraid, and even if they were better off away from that place, she wondered if a part of them would have preferred to stay, if horrible conditions wouldn't be better than not knowing what your future held. That was the wrong approach all over again.

"We've done the best we can, Ruby." Yang laid a hand on her shoulder. "And like Coco says, they'll be fine because the Council has to make sure they're fine or the White Fang will rip them to shreds. It's not ideal, but it gets the same result."

"It shouldn't be like this…"

"It shouldn't, but maybe the best way to change that is to force their hand." Yang winced at her own words. "Okay, now I sound like I'm supporting force over free will. Ugh. I mean that we forced them to do the right thing by doing this."

Ruby giggled. "I think I get it, Yang."

In a way, they'd forced the Council, but it was forcing them to do the _right thing_, so she shouldn't feel bad about it. That was what this PR stuff was. It was making people either want to do the thing you wanted, or believe they want to. Most of the time it was used to make people buy certain products or support teams or companies or politicians, but for now they were using it to convince people to support a course of action, helping these faunus.

Maybe that really was okay. If it changed minds, it changed minds and that was all that really mattered. No one would call you evil for manipulating people to give more to charity or treat their families better, so she shouldn't feel bad here either.

"Turn those frowns upside down," Coco told them. "Not least of all because we did a good thing no matter the methods. Keep your eyes on the news later. Look at what people say about you all both on TV and online. Some of it will be bad," she warned them. "There are always people like that, especially online, but there will be plenty who support what we did."

"I'm sure father will have a press release out soon," Weiss drawled. "Decrying the failure of the SDC, blaming Miss Tanner and covering his own holdings."

"And he won't mean a word of it," Blake whispered.

"That's the thing," Coco said. "It can be used for good or bad, but at the end of the day actions speak louder than words. People will know Jacques Schnee is saying what he does without meaning it, but they'll know _Weiss Schnee_ was out there in person dealing with it. They'll know she doesn't just sit back and pay someone to write a press release; she gets in there and fixes things."

Ruby noticed Weiss' smile grow a little more natural. That was enough for her own to show. Sure, the White Fang were still out there and Jaune was going to share in all the good press they did, but he wasn't claiming all of it and the White Fang weren't the only heroes of the hour.

"We should stop crimes as well," she said.

"Hah?" Yang turned to her. "What?"

"What do you mean?" Blake asked, far more interested.

"If we're always reacting to the White Fang then we're always letting them get the lead." Ruby tried to put the best words to her thoughts she could, using everything Coco had drilled into her head. "No matter how hard we try, they'll be remembered as the ones who saved the people. We're just the taxi service. So, we should go out and stop some crimes ourselves! Show everyone Beacon can handle this as well!"

Someone sniffed. Looking over, she saw Coco wiping an imaginary tear from her eye.

"They grow up so fast. One day you're teaching them how to talk without stuttering and the next they're planning their first campaign. I… Is this what it feels like to watch your children grow up?" Coco's eyes settled on her and Ruby backed away, suddenly nervous. That panic only grew when Coco opened her arms wide and swept her up before she could bolt. "C'mere, you!"

"Ackkk! Nooo! Coco, everyone is watching! Argh. Yang, save meeee!"

/-/

It was a tired but satisfied group of terrorists that arrived back at their warehouse. The vehicle pulled slowly into the parking bay and they spilled out, hands clapping backs and laughter loud and clear. Even Jaune smiled along, more relaxed now that he and Adam had talked. For them, this was a grand victory, a moment where they knew without a doubt that they'd improved the lives of so many faunus. He wouldn't ruin that with his own problems.

"We should celebrate," Jaune said. "Vending machine treats are on me!"

"Hooray!"

"Whooo! That's our boss!"

"I planned ahead for that!" Perry cheered. "If all goes well, we should have a nice surprise!"

"Perry," Deery growled. "What did you do?"

"Nothing bad. Nothing bad. I promise."

"Funnily enough," Jaune said. "I don't believe you. Whatever. I just want to sit down."

Approaching the main door, they entered in with voices raised, expecting Ilia to be there to welcome them. And she was, but she looked rather strained and a little nervous, flanked by two people he didn't recognised and with a third standing in the lead. The White Fang drew silent, hands falling to weapons as a tall and beautiful woman approached, golden eyes burning with fire and long black hair spilling down her back, hips swaying clad in satin red and gold. Smooth skin, curves and a dress that hung so low it almost looked to be falling off.

"You are quite the difficult faunus to get hold of, Jaune Arc," she said, voice lovely and warm but also cuttingly sharp. "I've been quite patient, but you're starting to push what I shall accept. Making me wait like this..." Stopping before him, she looked up into his eyes. Her stance said she expected something of him. "Well? Don't you have something you want to say to me?"

Not to her. Jaune turned, eyes flat.

"Perry. Did you _really_ hire us a stripper?"

* * *

**Jaune gets his victory and cements his name in Vale and has an eye-opening moment out of it. Meanwhile, Ruby is actually proving to be a whole lot better at the PR thing than anyone expected her to be. Embrace the ham, Ruby. Embrace it!**

**On the bit about Jaune opening his eyes and such, RWBY obviously does a pretty bad job of conveying the racism – someone even messaged me recently to say one of the writers (I think it was Miles but I may be wrong; best to check yourself before taking my word as gospel) implied that the reason they hadn't conveyed faunus racism well in the show was because they were "two white guys" writing the story.**

**Can't say I know what to take from that. Is it an excuse that comes across callous, since you could at least **_**talk**_** to people who have experienced it or look up some documentaries to get an idea (I watched documentaries on indentured servitude for last chapter, both in the US founding times AND in recent modern history with press gangs and modern day slavery, since I wanted it to be as close to modern times as it could be and less obvious, more insidious), but at the same time I suppose it's good of them to admit it's a problem in the show and admit why they struggled. So long as they learn from it and don't rely on that excuse in the future, otherwise it's like Jacques Schnee in this chapter - just excuses tossed into the wind. **

**I dunno. I feel like if I can write it, and I'm not saying I'm perfect but it's present at least, then they could have put that same effort in. Blaming it on being white feels like a cop-out. I'm white too, but I can put the effort in.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: **26th May

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	15. Chapter 15

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because ****_obviously_**** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 15**

* * *

He had a feeling he'd guessed wrong when the stripper's eyes narrowed and her companion, the boy with the silver hair, snickered. The other girl, green hair and skin a shade darker than Ilia's, looked positively scandalised and even a little offended. That was a little unfair; he hadn't called _her_ a stripper. Of course, that was more because he expected Perry to hire someone with a bigger chest, but he wasn't about to say that.

The stripper stalked toward him, hips swinging from side to side, eyes burning and lips curled upward dangerously. Jaune stepped back with one foot, wondering where his allies were before realising they'd spread out into a circle, trusting their esteemed and glorious leader to deal with this. He was Jaune Arc, leader of the White Fang sect in Vale. He could handle this.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I'm actually new to all this and aren't sure what to say. Do you prefer erotic dancer? Carnal performer? Adult entertainer?"

The stripper's eyes flashed, and she gripped his chin in hand, nails biting into his cheeks. "I prefer terms of respect. Ma'am will do. Mistress in a pinch."

"Oh," he mumbled. "You're one of those dominatrix types?"

"That's an interesting ability you have," the stripper said. "I've never seen a man quite so flexible that he could fit _both_ feet into his mouth and remain standing."

"It's a skill. Also, can you give me a little space? I just had a rough moment with a very forward lady and you're making me nervous." He tried to smile but the gesture was warped and muddled because she was pinching his cheeks together. "No offence, mistress. I'm sure Perry and the others will still be interested."

"She isn't a stripper!" the other girl shouted, unable to control herself any further. The boy elbowed her side and motioned for her to be quiet. A little too late there. The green-haired girl was practically shaking with anger, glaring hatefully in his direction.

Jaune spared a quick look to Ilia, who nodded sagely. Huh. Made sense.

"My name is Cinder Fall," the not-stripper said, releasing his jaw. "Does that _sound_ like the name of a sex worker?"

_Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it._

His treacherous mouth had already formed the words.

"Well… yeah."

Cinder stood there, stunned.

"It kinda does," Perry agreed.

"First name based on fire. That's passion. Second is a season chosen at random, or maybe a reference to what happens to your clothes." Yuma nodded, cupping his chin and looking her up and down a little too appreciatively.

"It _is_ a bit of a porn name," Ilia whispered. "Glad I wasn't the only one thinking it…"

Cinder – if that was her real name – bristled furiously, clenching her hands into fists that soon became wreathed with fire. Jaune took another step back but the flame was gone as soon as it had come, whisked away as the woman laughed sharply, narrowing her eyes and allowing a far more satisfied smile to appear.

"You're more cunning than Adam was, trying to rile me up so I make a mistake. A worthy effort. I'll forgive it this once. I am Cinder, no matter what you think of that name, and you owe me several tonnes of dust."

Jaune stared at her. "Do we…?"

"YES!" Her entire body trembled before she gripped herself, bit back a snarl and forced the calm forth again. "Yes," she said, softer this time. "Yes, you do. I had an agreement with Adam, to provide him with information and resources, that we would work together to better our interests in Vale. Part of that from his end was to provide dust."

"Adam is kind of… well…" Jaune looked around. "Occupied?"

"He's dead. I know." More than she knew, less than she thought. The `how` on Adam being stuck in his head was still up in the air, and not entirely useful here. "It matters little. We had an agreement. I carried through my part. You have inhered his debt."

"So you're a loan shark. You work for the banks?"

"I am the greatest agent of the most powerful and evil entity on this planet!" she snapped.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Rargh!" Cinder threw her hand to the left, summoning and hurling a ball of fire so fast it made him flinch. It struck and splashed on the back wall, causing a localised explosion and a hiss of burning plastic and cheap food.

"Vendi-chan!" Yuma wailed, dropping to his knees. "Nooo!"

"Is this a game to you, Arc?" Cinder hissed. "Do you realise the danger you're in or is idiotic bravado your coping method? I thought Roman had it bad, but this is a level above." Her finger stabbed into his breastbone, hot as a brand. "Your methods might be interesting – playing the hero to lull the sheep to sleep - but keep in mind who you are talking to. I have been inordinately patient with you, understanding that after usurping Adam you might need time to reinforce your position. My patience is fast drying up. Where is the dust?"

"We sold it."

"You… You…" Her teeth gnashed together. "T-Then I suggest you acquire it again – and soon! I will grant you some time. I will also grant you the benefit of the doubt as to _this_ moment being born of some confusion after what recently happened to you." Sweeping away, she motioned for her companions to fall in behind her. "This is a chance I'm giving you, Arc. Do not waste it. And the next time I call, I expect you to answer your scroll!"

"You've called me…?"

"Yes." she gritted out. "Multiple. Times."

"Oh. You're the telemarketer."

"Neither that nor stripper, nor someone you want to get on the wrong side of. Emerald, Mercury, come. Let us leave the White Fang to their celebration." Walking by, she spoke without looking back. "I'm sure we can spend more time together once you've gathered the dust you owe me."

The green-haired girl glared hatefully at him as she stomped by, while the silver-haired one that reminded him of Yuma reinforced that perception with a thumbs up and a shit-eating grin. The warehouse's door clanged shut behind them, rattling off its rusty hinges. Jaune released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding, looking around at his brave comrades in arms, all of whom had kept far, far away while he dealt – for a definition of the word – with the scary stripper.

"Fat load of good you lot were."

"You looked like you had it in hand," Deery said, eyes flat. "I especially liked the part where you kept calling her a stripper. Very classy."

"You jealous?" Perry asked. "I didn't hire one, but if you want to strip no one's stop-oof!" His knees hit the concrete. His forehead followed, driven down by Deery's foot stomping on the back of his shoulders.

Yuma was still on hands and knees but had crawled over to their burning vending machine to save all the snacks he could. Trifa was helping him, albeit on her feet and with less theatrics. Bane and Tukson were moving away, removing their masks and uniforms so they could return to everyday working life, leaving Jaune to walk up to Ilia.

"Ilia. Do you have any idea who they were?"

"Not a clue," she replied. "I knew Adam met and was working with someone, but he wasn't one for sharing details, especially not with me. I think you made a mistake, though. We should have worked with them."

It was a surprising thing to say, especially since they were doing well and Ilia had professed loyalty to Sienna before. There'd been no mention of Cinder from the Khan, and the way the stripper talked made it sound more like a private deal between her and Adam. "Why?" he asked.

"Because that short girl is the only confirmed lesbian I've found in this stupid city…"

"Oh for…" Jaune sighed into his hand. "One, that's a terrible reason. Two, the city is a big place – get yourself on Hunter; I hear it's a good app. Three, I'm fairly sure she was obsessively into the stri- into Cinder. And four, I thought you were in love with Blake!"

"I am, but since Blake hasn't returned my feelings yet. _And I never told her_," she mumbled under her breath. "I'm still on the market. As for the others, it's not exactly easy for a terrorist to pick up girls. What am I going to do? Invite them back to our lovely warehouse? The sewer? As for her being into the leggy one, I agree, but it doesn't look returned so I can pick up the pieces when she gets rejected. Sympathy sex is still good sex."

"Do you have any shame?"

"No," she said easily. "And I also don't have a cute short greenette now thanks to you." Ilia slid up to him. "You could repay me by putting me in touch with your sister."

"Saphron is married."

"Married couples spice up their sex life all the time."

"Ilia…" Jaune tried for his best glare, which couldn't have been particularly good since she didn't flinch. "I'll keep you in mind when I next talk to her?"

"That's all I ask!"

"You're not usually this… open about your preferences…"

"I may have tried to stop those three when they arrived," she said breezily, and a little hysterically. Jaune winced, understanding at last why Ilia was babbling so much. Something had shaken her. Shaken her so badly she was talking just for the sake of hearing her own voice, with little regard for how embarrassing it might be. "Let's just say it didn't go well."

"Did they hurt you?"

"Not physically." She rubbed her shoulders, shivering slightly. "The short one made me… see things. I think her Semblance is illusions. Or hallucinations. It… It wasn't a good place. I…" Bitterly, she tossed her head from side to side. "Forget it. Please forget it. I'm rambling."

"It's fine. I felt the same way after this mission." Clumsily, awkwardly, he patted her arm. He wasn't sure she'd appreciate it or let him, but she smiled limply back. "We're a team, okay? That means we're friends. If she ever tries anything again, tell us."

"And you'll what?" she asked. "Call her boss a stripper again?"

"Seemed to piss her off when I did, so yes."

"Hah." Ilia closed her eyes and sagged a little. "I'll be fine. Thanks for offering, though. Adam never would have. Adam wouldn't have cared."

"I think that had less to do with him hating you and more to do with you both being in love with the same woman." After hearing Adam's horrible poetry – it was bad, waxing about Blake's hair and eyes, her burning passion and the musical nature of her voice – he knew full well how ridiculously obsessed the idiot was.

"Maybe." Ilia grinned. "You're not about to develop feelings for her as well are you?"

"Let's just say I think that ship sank in the harbour."

/-/

"_-and as a family company, I have always tried to run the SDC with the livelihoods and the safety of the families who work for us in mind, some of whom have worked with us for generations now. That is why I am personally affronted by this, not as CEO of the SDC, but as Jacques Schnee, father to two daughters and a son. Those in positions of authority have a responsibility to ensure they do not abuse said power. Miss Elizabeth Tanner fell below the expectations placed upon her, upon anyone who works within the Schnee Dust Company."_

"_As such, we shall be reviewing conditions within all our facilities across not only Vale but Atlas and Mistral as well, while also co-operating with all inquiries from the Kingdom of Vale. Beyond that, I shall be personally donating two million lien to various charities helping victims of assault and abuse of this nature. I would like to personally thanks Beacon for bringing this to our attention, and my daughter, Weiss Schnee, who led the charge to discover such unacceptable behaviour." _Jacques Schnee leaned forward, closing his eyes sorrowfully_. "Thank you for your time." _

Yang whistled and muted the TV as the journalists burst out in questions. "Wow," Yang said. "He's good. I mean, I don't know how much of that is true, but the way he said it makes you think it hit him hard."

"I doubt it did," Blake snarked. "I like how he implied Weiss was team leader, too. Wouldn't do for a Schnee to follow."

"It will have bothered him more than you think," Weiss said. "And in the most painful of ways – his reputation. Father means little of what he said there, especially his praise of me. I'll likely be hearing about that the next time I visit home. That will be anything but pleasant. What he said there was a whole lot of nothing."

"Wrong!"

Coco slapped a ruler toward Weiss' hand, but the heiress pulled away at the last second. Undaunted, Coco slapped her thigh instead, making her shriek and hop back. "Why are you in our room!?" Weiss howled. "And ow! That hurt!"

"You're a huntress. Get over it. As for why, I'm here because I'm your PR Angel and you're missing important things." Coco bounced on Blake's bed, shaking one of the books supporting Yang's bed loose. Yang yelped as her bed lurched down, not falling but sliding her off the edge to tumble to the floor in a pile of limbs.

Coco didn't even react.

"He did a lot with those few minutes and it's your job now to see what. First and foremost, he blunted the criticism toward him by throwing Tanner under the buss – and better still, he's sent out a tacit warning to every other middle manager in the SDC. You know what that is?"

"If they're caught abusing faunus, he can't afford to support them," Blake said. "And he won't even try. They're on their own."

"Bingo! Good job, Edgy Ranger. It's a warning and a get-out-of-jail-free card. He's saying it's the individual responsible for the abuse, not him. Which to be fair is true. He probably didn't tell Tanner to start sexually assaulting faunus. That's something she decided to do."

"He's distancing himself from it," Ruby said, peering down on Yang to make sure she was alive. If the cussing was anything to go by, she was fine. "He didn't mention the White Fang either," she said. "That's important, right?"

"Awww. My little protégé is so good at this! Ahem." Coco coughed, cheeks red. "And yes, it is. He made it sound like Beacon and Beacon alone discovered this, which is good for us and not something we're going to dispute. But by failing to mention the White Fang, he's making it clear that while he supports the results – or is pretending to – he doesn't support their means. And his word carries, like the guy or not. A lot of people will listen to him."

"That's fine for us," Blake said. "Better people thank Beacon for this than the White Fang; I know how they work. Being kind toward one group is normal, though it's usually the faunus because they want to recruit them. They're two-faced, though. Adam would be kind to faunus communities one moment and cruel the next. I even hard of some who refused to support us being abandoned to the Grimm, then White Fang would sweep in after to `rescue` the survivors, who no longer had anywhere to go and joined us."

"That's horrible!" Ruby gasped. "D-Did you see it?"

"No. I'd have stopped it if I had. It wasn't something Adam ever did, but he was never the worst of them. The point is, it's normal for them to pretend to be peaceful when it suits their purposes, and it does here. I bet if they couldn't find a legitimate reason to bust this place, they'd have attacked and killed everyone."

"Maybe," Coco said. "We don't know, and we sure as heck can't accuse them of that. No one would believe us."

"We're huntresses!" Blake snapped. "They're terrorists! He's a confirmed murderer."

"They're also the heroes of the hour," Yang said, sitting up on the floor with a glare for Coco. "Even I can see that. Between exposing that crook and this, people are on their side. They're on our side too, but if we throw shade without proof, we look petty."

Blake stood without a word, made her way to the door and out, slamming it behind her. Ruby made to climb out of bed and chase, but Yang beat her to it, waving her back down with a, "I'll talk to her," before following. By the time she got out, Blake was already at the end of the corridor and she had to jog to catch up, only for Blake to start jogging too.

_Seriously? You're making me do this?_

Yang broke into a run, Blake into a sprint and then Yang the same, the two of them racing down the corridor sure for a detention if Miss Goodwitch so much as caught their scent. Thankfully, the corridors were empty, and they were soon outside, Blake ducking into the trees and Yang weaving around after her, running her down with no intent to catch but just to wear her out.

It didn't take long. Blake was quick and agile, but no one had the kind of stamina Yang did. To her credit, she lasted longer than Ruby or Weiss would, but soon enough Blake was hunched over by a tree, face red as she panted for air.

"Nice run," Yang said, coming up with heavy breathing and a light sweat. "We should do this more often."

"Are – Are you this dumb?" her partner rasped. "Or just this annoying?"

"Probably both." Yang pushed the faunus down and sat cross-legged beside her, keeping hold so she couldn't flee. "So, you're upset. Want to talk about it?"

"Why bother asking if you're going to run me down like a fox?"

"Was I running you down?" she asked innocently. "I was just walking the same way as you, then you decided to jog and I thought, wow, Blake wants to have a race. I like races." Grinning widely, she held her arms out. "And here we are."

"M-Most people would have taken the hint I wanted to be alone!"

"Most people aren't Yang Xiao-Long."

"Yeah, and Remnant is a better place for it!" Blake scowled. "You're so annoying."

"True." Yang let the insult wash off her like oil. It was already obvious Blake was in a bad mood, so a few nasty names were expected. It was just her way of pushing people away. "Tell me something I don't know, like, hmm, why you're so upset. How about that?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my partner sooo it kinda is. Let me guess, it's the White Fang? Well, not like it's a hard guess," she admitted, laughing. "You're like a dog with a laser pointer where they're involved. Guess I can understand it, though. You feel responsible."

"I don't."

"Hmm?"

"I don't feel responsible," Blake said. "I cut ties. I ended it. I stopped Adam doing something terrible and renounced my part in the Fang. As far as I'm concerned anything that happens after is none of my responsibility."

"Not like it'd be bad if it were," Yang pointed out. "They haven't done much illegal. Well, bad illegal. They did break into a place and impersonate people to fool the SDC, but I don't think you'll find a court willing to try them for it."

"I hate this," Blake spat. "The White Fang – no, him. Jaune Arc. He's a killer. He murdered Adam, stole his place and no one seems to care. Everyone is acting like he's never done anything wrong, but he _killed_ Adam!"

Yang watched Blake punch the grass. It wasn't the White Fang she was after at all. It was their leader. "This is personal for you, isn't it? I thought it was you versus them but it's not. It's you and him. Why? I thought you cut ties. Whatever you and Adam had is over."

"It's not that easy. Adam… I left him but… he still matters. I thought my leaving might be a wake-up call. I thought it'd shock him into thinking. That he might improve. Now, he'll never have the chance. All because some ambitious _monster_ killed him to steal his position! And that's not even the worst part! It's bad enough, but the worst part is no one cares!" Blake's eyes burned with tears. "The White Fang are happy following him. Vale is happy having him. The media is making love to him! He's a murderer! He's a killer!"

"Blake-"

"What about Adam?" she gasped, voice choking, tears falling. "What about Adam, Yang? Why does no one care about him? W-Why does he not matter? Why does no one care that he didn't get a chance? Why are people _celebrating_ his death?"

Because he was a bad person. Because he was dead and gone. Because, Yang would never say, he hadn't been as _interesting_ to the public as this Jaune character was. All those lessons Coco had pounded into their heads painted such a horrible truth. Yang responded instead by sliding over and wrapping an arm around Blake, rocking her back and forth as she cried.

"If I hadn't left, he'd still be alive…"

"Or you'd both be dead. You made the only choice you could. I'm sure he doesn't blame you and I for one am glad you're here with us…"

Blake closed her eyes and leaned into her, muffling the tears in Yang's shoulder.

/-/

"_You continue to do well."_ Sienna Khan sat upon her wooden throne, one leg crossed and her chin atop her fist. Her bright yellow eyes watched him without the suspicion she'd shown before, a cruel and satisfied warlord. _"I watched the Schnee grovel and squirm his way through that conference. The idiots may believe him but faunus aren't so blindly trusting. You've opened the eyes of many with this move and done so in such a masterful way. It was a joy to watch."_

His harassment had been a pleasure, or did she mean Jacques? Either way, he stayed on one knee, bowing low in the sewers asking himself not for the first time why he was here and what the hell he was doing. He wasn't even a faunus, let alone a terrorist.

Everything achieved so far was by dumb, blind luck.

Ilia was behind him though, so he had to play the part. "Thank you for your words."

"_The Albain brothers are enthused with your progress as well. In fact, they've come to see you as the counter to myself. Not a replacement,"_ she said slyly. _"But a compliment. You to be the soft approach of the White Fang, and myself the steel."_

"Good cop, bad cop?"

Sienna chuckled. _"Precisely."_

From what Adam had told him, he and Sienna hadn't been the greatest of allies. Adam questioned her lack of action, Sienna his fanaticism. There'd been a rift and even thoughts of overthrowing her, though he'd always held back out of fear of what might happen to Blake if he failed. With her gone, Jaune wasn't sure if Adam would have held back any longer. Sienna had to know that and appeared happy with the knowledge _his_ ambitions didn't raise so far.

"I live to serve," he said, just in case. "On that note, we had a bit of an interesting guest today…"

"_Ilia has informed me. This Cinder Fall is unknown to me, but clearly was not to Adam."_ Sienna leaned forward, snarling. _"It wouldn't surprise me that he would work with humans."_ Jaune flinched. _"That he would lower himself to accept their aid._"

"I'd never do that," he lied. Behind him, Ilia swallowed a cough. Whoops, she knew about Lisa Lavender. "Within reason. The main reason I asked was because Cinder expects me to fetch her dust. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a plan of yours."

"_I appreciate that. It's not, and I've asked the Albain brothers to the same end. They say their support lays with you and me, and no other. For once, I am inclined to believe them. Your methods are working for now. There's no reason for us to force you into ruining them. Whatever she is, it's an agreement between her and Adam, not the White Fang."_

"Then you want me to ignore her? I can't say for sure but she might be dangerous."

"_As I'm sure you are, Jaune…"_

"You flatter me."

"_Not undeservedly."_

He laughed weakly.

"_You may deal with her as you see fit. I have complete faith in your abilities." _

"Wow. Uh... thanks…"

"_In the meantime, I want you to begin fleshing out your numbers. You've delayed recruitment long enough and the White Fang is riding an unprecedented wave of popularity. Take advantage of this before rogue faunus elements try and do it themselves and sabotage your plans."_

Jaune felt sick. "Would that happen?"

"It has in the past," Ilia said, answering for Sienna. "There were some even Adam didn't want to deal with, those who were too extreme even for him. He rejected them and we thought the matter over, but they donned masks outside his control and launched an attack on a school. Not a huntsman academy," she said sadly. "A human school for children…"

"_It was a dark day for the White Fang, perpetuated by radicals determined to do anything to have their vengeance with no regard for how it impacts the wider movement."_ Sienna fixed him with a stare. _"We cannot have that. If someone is determined to join the White Fang it is better we allow that and control their actions rather than push them to try and `impress us` by acting independently. Believe me when I say the people won't discriminate in that event. We will be blamed for what they do, regardless of whether they did so on your orders or not."_

He'd be blamed. It'd be the end of any chance of proving his innocence and no one would believe he didn't have a hand in it. "I'll start recruitment immediately." He bowed his head, aware of Sienna's pleased purr.

"_Good. Keep a firm hand on them lest they act outside your wishes. Take that as free advice from me to you, and something I should have done sooner with Adam."_ It felt like a warning, but it was also good advice and something he hadn't considered. The White Fang here currently were all down to Remnant and good people but there was no telling who they might end up with.

"Thank you, Sienna." The gratitude was honest. "I'll take your advice to heart."

"_You really are easier to deal with than Adam. Well done, Jaune. The White Fang salutes you."_

The call ended and Jaune let out a sigh, remaining on one knee for a few seconds as Ilia closed the machine down to save power. The sewer dripped ominously, the distant sound of rats scurrying about an ever-present companion. He missed it, weirdly enough. It was a stinky mess, but the sewer had been so much safer than being aboveground.

"Sienna likes you."

"Does she?"

"Mm. It's obvious, at least to me." Ilia finished logging the miniature CCT down and removed her scroll from it, cutting the connection. "Her and Adam always used to have such tense meetings. It was hard to be in the same room as them. He didn't respect her word and she couldn't stand his pushing for action. I'm not sure who was in the right, but everyone knew it would come to a head one day. You're different. You listen."

"She's been at this longer than I have," he said. For one, she signed up intentionally! "I respect her advice."

"It shows. Sienna likes that. Her pride was always an issue."

"Should you be insulting her?"

"It's not an insult. There's a lot she should be proud of, bringing us all together and managing to keep us safe. Achieving the things we have. It's not all been good," she admitted, "But compared to how it was under the Belladonnas… well, those methods weren't working."

"The peaceful ones?"

"Can't really call them that. There wasn't much `peaceful` about marching with placards while people throw rocks at you and the Atlas Military Police say they can't stop them without causing a riot. Course, if one of us threw something back it was straight off to a cell and the protest got dispersed."

Thanks Atlas. If they hadn't been such bastards, he wouldn't have been stuck where he was now. Sienna was right about recruitment, though. Some faunus had to already be asking how they could sign up and if he didn't give them a way, they might try and do it themselves. Either that or someone would try and set up a copy-cat organisation. He was surprised the Council hadn't done that already. Hire some actors, attack some people and blame it on them and everyone would eat it up.

It took him a moment to realise why they hadn't – because _they_ were the law-abiding good guys and _he_ was the criminal. Sometimes it was hard to remember which side he was on. Was this what it mean to go native? They weren't bad people, his lot. They'd just been pushed to bad ends.

"Ilia, on a scale of one to ten, how bad is recruitment going to be?"

"Not very. We're riding a wave of popularity like Sienna said. We'll have faunus queuing up to join."

"I meant organising and arranging it."

"Oh that!" she laughed. "That's going to be hell on Remnant. I mean, leaving aside the obvious breaches in security, the chance of faunus undercover police officers, how we keep it hidden, motivational speeches, funding, food, organisation, keeping them under control, training and the increased logistical burdens, well, let's just say it- boss?" Ilia paused, noticing Jaune on all fours, gritting his teeth and shaking. "A-Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine. Dandy, even. Just… Just thinking how much fun this is going to be…"

"Try and stay with us," she drawled. "The White Fang needs you. _We_ need you."

"Ilia…"

"-to do all this work so we don't have to."

His face fell. "Ilia."

"And to introduce me to your milf of a sister."

"Ilia," he growled.

"I know, I know. She's still really young, but she's _technically_ a mother so…"

"Can we not talk about my sister's sex life?"

"Sure. Would you rather talk about all the things we'll need to do if we end up with a hundred or more fresh recruits with no idea who or how many are traitors? Or how we're going to acquire the dust to satisfy this Cinder person? Or better yet, how we refuse her without getting set on fire?"

Water dripped loudly from the ceiling.

"On second thought, my sister has always been adventurous, so what's the harm? Saphron likes white lilies, romcoms and girls in glasses. Terra has a thing for blondes, which-" Jaune watched Ilia's hair melt into the brightest shade of yellow he'd ever seen, "-obviously won't be a problem for you…"

Ilia took notes, even if it didn't matter because they were all the way over in Argus and sure to be watched as any family of his would be if they came near Vale. It let them both ignore the bigger questions though, things like how they'd manage recruitment, what to do about Cinder and how the hell they were meant to dispose of a fifty-metre tall mega death robot.

He was still going to talk to Trifa about setting Ilia up with a Hunter profile, though.

* * *

**Hunter being a reference to Tinder obviously. **

**Got to avoid those Code Geass similarities where I can. I honestly never even saw them until the Paladin came in, which is a canon event, and then everything clicked into place and I was like whoah, Jaune's one magic eye-semblance away from becoming Lelouch.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 9****th**** June**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	16. Chapter 16

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because ****_obviously_**** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 16**

* * *

"Recruitment." Jaune slapped a paper cup of coffee down on the rickety table set up in the warehouse's cafeteria. Trifa and Yuma jumped, neither fully awake and both looking around wildly before focusing on him. Terrorists didn't make for early risers apparently. Yuma might have had an excuse being a bat faunus. "I'm open to suggestions."

"Bluh?" Trifa rubbed her eye with a knuckle. "Hah-? Aren't you supposed to say that _after_ laying down a plan first?"

"I am," he reasoned. "My plan is to do recruitment. Now I'm asking for ideas."

"B-But you haven't _planned_ anything…"

"I'm planning to implement your ideas." They couldn't fault that logic. "You two worked for the White Fang in Menagerie. You must have seen how Sienna handled recruitment there."

"Oh. You want to know that went down." Yuma spoke between yawns, stretching his arms up above and his wings out to the left and right. One clipped a sleeping Ilia, who slid off the table and crashed down to the ground with an indignant squawk.

"Blake-?" she mumbled.

"Sorry," Yuma replied. "Blake remains where she always does. In your dreams."

"Fuck you, Yuma."

"You're not that desperate."

"Wha-?" Ilia growled and pushed herself up. "Don't insult yourself before I can. Jaune? What are – is that coffee?"

"Is that a question or a request?" Jaune asked, pushing the cup over. Ilia wasted no time stealing and drinking it. "Can we get back onto the point please. I'm supposed to be running a group of deadly terrorists, not hungover students."

"I _wish_ I was hungover," Yuma grumbled. "Fine. Fine. Recruitment." He yawned again. "It's Menagerie, though. The White Fang gets to be more open there. Sienna basically has a recruitment office you can go to and talk with representatives. They tell you about the Fang, you talk, and if you decide to sign up, they'll pass your details up for someone to decide where best to use you."

That was it? A recruitment office? It was getting really hard to maintain the frightening image he had of the White Fang when he imagined an office worker sat behind a desk. It wasn't something that could be imitated in Vale.

"We should probably do a test of some kind," Trifa said.

"Initiation?"

"Yeah. I mean, we're going to get a lot of people appearing – some of which will be moles. Need a way to weed those out."

"Speaking of appearing, we need to advertise this."

Jaune looked to Yuma with a raised eyebrow. "I'm not sure _terrorists_ advertising a meeting is a good idea."

"It's not. But if we don't, how do you think our new recruits will know where and when to show up?"

Huh. He had a point. There had to be _some news_ of the meeting, but how were they meant to alert prospective faunus without alerting the authorities? Oh hell, that was a fresh new bucket of problems. Jaune groaned into his hands.

"Initiation can be problematic as well," Ilia said. "Do we do a physical test? Mental?"

"Make them prove their commitment."

"How? I don't think making them kill humans will do much for our reputation." Trifa pointed it out flatly but the mere suggestion already had Jaune waving his arms.

"No! No killing. No blood initiations!"

"Undercover cops can't kill, though," Yuma said. "Or shouldn't. I don't know how it really works outside movies. Oh, we could always do the empty gun trick. You know, tell them to shoot a prisoner but the gun is unloaded."

"We're not shooting anyone," Jaune ruled out. "Fake or no."

"Then what about the undercover officers?"

What about them? Maybe if they saw how he was trying to make things better they could report that back and make their bosses realise he was innocent. Maybe. If they didn't just organise a raid the first chance they had and throw him in prison. Would they even need a trial at this point? He'd as good as fixed himself as leader of the White Fang in Vale. That wasn't exactly up for debate. Maybe the undercover agents would be worse than he'd thought.

"Sienna says we can't send anyone away," he said. "So initiations or tests of any kind are a no go. Or apparently we'll have nutjobs taking things into their own hands."

Trifa scowled. "Ah yes, those kinds. I remember having to deal with some before. They're the bloodthirsty ones. If they don't see vengeance being taken, they get worked up."

"That's gonna be a problem here." Yuma said. "The boss' strategy is a lot slower. Hearts and minds. The nutcases only care about those if it's a human heart on the end of a stick. What are we gonna do if they start acting out?"

"Discipline them," Ilia said. "What else can we do? Ignore them and they'll act on their own – that'll completely destroy any of the progress we've made."

"I'd suggest killing them if that wasn't a surefire way to upset every faunus in the city." Yuma sighed and slouched down onto one elbow, chin resting atop his hand. He must have dealt with the radicals too. "You get all kinds, sadly. For every competent moderate they'll be an incompetent radical and a moronic idealist."

"Idealists are the least of our problems," Jaune said.

"You say that now. Wait until you have to deal with them."

"We've completely derailed what I was talking about here. We've not even gotten to how to control the recruits yet – we don't _have_ any. How are we going to handle recruitment?"

"Give a speech," Ilia said. "Whip them up."

"Alright. Who's good at public speaking here?" Yuma, Trifa and Ilia continued to stare at him. Sweat beaded on his face. "It has to be me, doesn't it?"

"Yep."

"Afraid so."

"You're the boss."

"But wouldn't it be better if I kept a mysterious and aloof persona? If I was the shadow behind the throne? The silent mastermind – emphasis on the silent?"

"Boss has to be the one to speak," Yuma said. "The mooks won't trust it otherwise."

"Yuma, we're running a terrorist group, not a mafia. Stop calling me boss."

"The head of the family needs to lead," he wheezed in a terrible, _terrible_, accent. "It is about sending a message." He switched back to his normal voice. "And that message won't get across if it's one of us saying it. Besides, you're the face of all this. You're the one on the news. You're the one Lisa splashed on every front page across the city."

"It has to be you," Ilia confirmed. "People can be swayed by words, but they follow people. With all the thing you've done to push rights recently, I wouldn't be surprised if they're more interested in Jaune Arc than the White Fang. You've started a movement."

"Great," Jaune said, smiling weakly. "Just like I intended…"

/-/

How did one go about arranging a terrorist event?

It was a question he'd never thought of in his life and one he'd never imagined he might need to, but if he had, he would have said it couldn't be _that_ hard. You just found some likeminded people, arranged a time and a shady place to meet and there you were.

Not quite so easy, it turned out.

Where did you find said likeminded people? How did you reach them? Online? There were forums for discontent faunus apparently, where Ilia explained they could talk and ask for advice on what they should do if their boss or someone else treated them unfairly. It was meant to be a community where faunus could support one another and share bad experiences without judgment. The White Fang had a presence there of course, but it was pervasive and subtle. Too subtle to arrange a meeting. And really, detailing it online was just asking for the police to come crashing down.

Word of mouth? It was the safest way to do it, but how did you start that off? Advertising through word of mouth usually worked on the basis that someone would come to your restaurant, business or whatever, enjoy the service, then tell their friends. Other than Perry or Deery having friends they could pass the news onto, everyone else was new to the city. There was just no way to get the ball rolling.

"But there has to be a better idea than this," Jaune sighed, holding the poster up to the wall and driving the staple gun against it. It was industrial enough to pierce through the wooden board with a single _ka-chunk_. He stapled the other three corners before turning to Ilia. "Are we _really_ putting up posters? I mean, really?"

"If you're dressed like a girl, you should make an effort to sound like one."

"Why? Let people assume what they want."

"Hmm. This is the second time I've dressed you up now and no complaints."

"Sisters," he said, shrugging. "You know the best way to stop your sisters putting you in embarrassing outfits? Don't react. They get bored if you don't act out."

"Are your sisters cats or something?"

"Or something," he mumbled.

This wasn't even all that bad an outfit. He had tight black pants, a white jacket, and a black undershirt. It showed off his belly, which was a little weird (and drafty), but it wasn't like he hadn't gone around topless at the beach or swimming pool. The long wig, this time brown, and only after a tense glaring contest when Ilia tried to have him put on black, did most of the work, breaking up his distinctive golden hair. There were no heels thankfully. He'd have drawn the line there, and it would have been drawn in blood from all the times he'd trip up.

As for the black wig, if she took any more pleasure in trying to dress him up like Blake, Adam was going to flip. If one might have thought being dead would have made him any less a jealous and possessive prick, they were wrong.

"Back to the posters, though…"

"They're subtle."

Were they? Jaune leaned back to look at his, a rather simplistic picture of two faunus sat across a table, one looking upset and the other with his hand on the shoulder of the first as though to comfort him. Beneath it the words `Faunus Care Association` stood above a longer block of text talking about how if you felt judged, oppressed, or harassed due to your nature, you should attend the first meeting of the FCA.

"What if we genuinely get people looking to be comforted?"

"Then we don't take them on," Ilia replied stapling a fresh poster onto the wall. They were in the poorer section of the city, hence the generous amount of wood boarding up windows with which to stick the posters to. "It's not like everyone who shows up will be forced into it. You talk, they listen and those that want to join stay. Those that don't leave."

"And if they call the police?"

"Well we don't do the recruitment speech in our base obviously. And a lot of faunus know the FCA. It's a cypher for White Fang."

"Shouldn't that be something which spells our WF? The Welfare Faunus group?"

"Cyphers aren't meant to be obvious, Janet."

"At least give me a woman's name that isn't close to my real one."

"Sure thing, Margery."

"You're in a snide mood today. Did Trifa set you up with a Hunter profile yet?"

Ilia brandished the stapler gun threateningly. "I do not _need_ help with my dating life."

Really? If any group needed to be made it was Blake Lovers Anonymous, where anyone and everyone who had ever fallen for Blake Belladonna got together and worked out ways to _not_ be mildly insane. Seriously, between Adam and Ilia, it was a wonder the White Fang got anything done and not much of a surprise why that Blake girl booked it.

"Hello there!" A muscular arm wrapped around Jaune's neck, setting on his shoulder as a tanned boy with spiky blonde hair and a bright smile leaned in over her other. His other hand managed to snag Ilia and pull her in for a one-armed hug as well. "What brings two beautiful women like you out to these parts? It's a rough neighbourhood if you're not careful. Though if you ladies like, the Sun can chase that away."

"I'm a lesbian," Ilia said flatly.

"I'm a guy," Jaune said in his normal voice.

"Eh?" The tanned faunus, for Jaune noted the monkey tail, leaned back, and inspected him for a second, then burst out laughing. He didn't appear upset or embarrassed at all, though he did let go of them both. "Oh wow. Now I just need to hit on a married woman and I'll have completed the trifecta of foot in mouth. The holy trinity of idiocy. Name's Sun." He stuck out his hand. "Nice to meet'cha."

"Ilia-ana," Ilia lengthened her name at the last second, remembering her identity might have been compromised. "Iliana. This is Margery."

`Margery` shot `Iliana` a fierce glare. "I'm James," he lied. "Since I already said I was a guy."

"Hey. I don't judge. I'll call you whatever you like." Sun grinned and looked up at the poster in front of them. "Faunus Care Association? Hah. That sounds like some shifty play on the White Fang. You should be careful putting things like this up."

Jaune laughed awkwardly. "Y-Yeah. We will be."

"Don't want to get dragged in with that lot. Load of self-entitled creeps thinking they're helping faunus out. Don't realise the damage they do." Sun was closer to the trifecta than he realised, failing to note the increasing narrowness of Ilia's eyes.

"I hear the White Fang in Vale is different, though," Jaune said, hoping to save this poor guy a shanking.

"Mmm. I've heard that too. Not been around long enough to judge."

"You're from Vacuo?"

"Originally, but I came from Mistral. Here for the Vytal Festival." He hadn't taken his arm from around either of their shoulders and pulled Jaune a little closer. "I guess that's why you're doing this, right? Best time to catch some publicity for your care group."

"Yes. Exactly what you just said. That is the precise reason. You are smart."

"Eh. Seemed obvious. Just mind yourselves, yeah? Real reason I came over wasn't just to flirt with two pretty ladies. There's some shady dudes been tailing you for the last block and a half." Sun's voice dipped. "Act subtle now, yeah? They're over by the pawn shop."

Sun spun them around suddenly, pulling out his scroll and saying "selfie!" loudly. While he did aim it as such and smiled fit to split his face in two, he'd also turned them in the direction of the pawn shop and what looked to be a group of eight or so faunus. Jaune's stomach dropped. He'd half been hoping it was Yuma and Perry keeping an eye on them or something.

It wasn't. He didn't recognise any of them, but they looked rough. Maybe that was unfair to say and all, but their ears had bits missing and one of them, a rabbit faunus, had six pierced rings through his. Their outfits were also ripped and torn, less from abuse and more like they wanted to convey the image they were used to fighting.

"Looks like a gang," Ilia said calmly. She would be calm given her skillset.

Jaune was less so. "Like a criminal gang?"

"Hmm." It was Sun who answered. "Probably not White Fang – they don't tend to go after other faunus for obvious reasons. Like I said, though. This is a rough area. Plenty o' faunus downtrodden and all, but not all are willing to take it laying down. You two need a hand dealing with them?"

"You'd help?" Jaune blurted out.

"I'm a huntsman. It's what I do. Plus, I can't leave such a pretty man in trouble now, can I?"

Ilia snorted into her fist. "James _is_ pretty, isn't he?"

"Pretty enough for you?" Sun quipped.

"No. He has bits I'm not interested in."

"_Iliana_ likes her women edgy and dark with terrible backstories," Jaune sniped, causing Ilia to glare back at him.

"Huh." Sun rubbed his chin. "Isn't there an app for that?"

"Don't _you_ start…" Ilia growled to herself. "As for this, I guess we'd better see what they're after. If you're willing to back us up, I won't say no. James?"

She was asking him? Oh, she must have been asking if he wanted to reveal who he was to the gangsters. With a _huntsman_ right next to them!? Quickly, he shook his head. "No. It's fine with me. I – we – don't want to start a fight if we can help it."

"Heh. Let's say hi to the locals then." Sun steered them toward the group. "And if push comes to shove, let me handle the dirty work, yeah? I'm used to this sort of thing."

The eight faunus bristled as they made their way over. The apparent leader was a wolf faunus with wickedly sharp ears, one with a triangle cut out of it, and a scar down one cheek. He wore a grey jacket with the arms ripped off, one arm sleeved by a black undershirt and the other bare. Jaune wasn't sure what to make of the asymmetry, especially since it didn't look to be by accident. His faded jeans had one ripped knee and a single kneepad on the other. Again, why only one? Wouldn't that defeat the point?

The others were a motley crew, all of them with nicked animal features on full display, along with at least one, sometimes two, bare arms. They chattered loudly as they approached before the leader silenced the crew by holding one arm out. He smiled cockily, revealing sharpened fangs.

"You got some nerve, girlies."

Jaune blinked. "Nerve for what?"

If they noticed his not-very-feminine voice, they ignored it. The leader snapped his fingers and a second faunus with a huge bushy brown tail that reached all the way up over his head stepped up. He held out one of their posters, ripped down off a wall.

"Coming into our turf and setting these up," the wolf said. "You must not know who you're messing with. Allow me to educate you." He took his sleeved arm and rolled the black fabric up, tensing his arm to make his bicep bulge. All Jaune noticed was that it didn't look as big as Sun's even when resting – and nowhere near as big as Bane's muscles.

"I don't see anything."

"I think he means the tattoo," Ilia drawled. "Is that henna?"

"It's fucking inked!" the wolf spat angrily. "Inked with the blade of a knife and the blood of my enemies."

"Do you have sepsis?"

"They're mocking you, boss," the bushy tailed – was that a chipmunk faunus? – man yelled. "They're making fools of the White Fang!"

Jaune flinched. "Wha-?"

"That's right, girlie," the wolf sneered. "You stepping into the White Fang's territory now. All these faunus, everyone here, belongs to the White Fang." He tossed his head back. "Arooo!"

"What are you doing?" Sun asked.

"-oooo! I'm howlin', mother fucker. That's the battle cry of the White Fang. The snarling wolf!"

_Do we have a battle cry?_ Jaune asked silently, sending the message with his eyebrows to Ilia. A shake of the head and a shrug was all he received. The closest thing to one they had would be him yelping and begging for mercy.

"You're the White Fang?" Sun asked. He didn't sound impressed. "You lot?"

"That's right, bitches. And if you step on the White Fang's turf, you better be a faunus – and even if you are, you better pay the toll-"

"You're not White Fang."

The wolf paused. "Hah?" He looked to Jaune, lips peeling back to reveal rows of fangs. "You talkin' to me, girlie? You talkin' to a lieutenant of the White Fang!?"

"You're not from the White Fang."

"And how, bitch, would you think to know something like that?"

Because _he_ was the White Fang.

"Probably because you're harassing faunus," Sun said. "Which kinda isn't what the White Fang is all about."

"And you're revealing yourself in public," Ilia said. "The White Fang is a secret organisation."

"Doesn't have turf either, last time I checked."

"Or tattoos."

"Or battle cries."

"And certainly not wolf howls. I mean, you need to look up to do it. Why take your eyes off the enemy? That's a good way to get shot in the throat."

Ilia and Sun continued to play off one another, rattling off mistakes that had the wolf and his lackeys growing redder and redder. Apparently, it had become a competition at some point, with Sun and Ilia fighting to see who could bite deepest.

"Not to mention you're trying too hard," Sun said. "Faunus only have one animal feature. I'm assumin' the ears are real, which means you filed your teeth into fangs. First of all, holy crap man, did that not hurt? Secondly, how do you even eat?"

"I bet those `battle scars` are self-inflicted as well," Ilia sniped, looking up to his ears with a laugh. "I mean really, unless you're saying someone took a big triangular-shaped sword to you, I'm not sure how you'd have a cut like that."

"The facial scar is too small as well." Sun leaned in with a discerning hum, causing the startled wolf to flinch back. "Looks like it's fresh. Probably applied every few days. Credit where it's due, that's commitment, but a real facial scar doesn't stay that red. Not unless it's a damn sight bigger than that. Most turn white as the skin heals over it. Like this, see."

He showed off his arm and a nasty cut on his left bicep. It was _savage_, quite clearly caused by a Beowolf or some other huge Grimm, and it had by now faded into a clearly defined indent of paler skin. It was enough to have the tiny red nicks and cuts over the faunus looking paltry in comparison. A few of them shuffled their feet and pulled their sleeves down. Others turned their arms to hide the tiny scars.

The wolf shook with rage. Teeth bared and snarling like a mad dog, he pushed Sun back and roared out, "The White Fang isn't gonna take that shit from traitor faunus like you! Do 'em in boys. Show 'em what happens to those that badmouth the White Fang." He threw his head back. "Aroooo-ack!"

His howl cut off as a red staff gently tapped his neck. It _was_ gentle, for Sun could have crushed his windpipe in a moment, but even the love tap was enough to have the man gasping for air. Grinning, Sun twirled his staff and stamped the butt down to lean on it.

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"A-After him. M-Make that fucker pay!"

The chipmunk threw the poster down. "For the White Fang!"

Panic set in and Jaune flinched back, reaching for a weapon he didn't have. Ilia hadn't given him one and Crocea Mors was too distinctive. He brought up his fists instead, knowing next to nothing about fighting unarmed but at least knowing you were meant to shield your face.

It really didn't matter.

Sun twisted and swept the lower end of his staff out, cracking it into the inside knee of the chipmunk and knocking him down to one knee. It twisted out and cracked to the side of his ribs. Continuing through, Sun pushed the butt down on the fallen faunus' other side and used him as a vault, twisting into the air to slam a leg into the side of another's head and kick him aside. The momentum carried Sun into the centre of the charging group, where he dropped to one knee, staff over one shoulder and tipped down toward the floor.

"Two down," he teased. "Who's next?"

"Rargh!" A horse faunus with a long and flowing tail lashed out with a knife. Sun leaned back without dropping the smile and brought up his staff on the other side of the wrist, trapping the arm between his stave and his body. Turning on one foot, he leaned down and dragged the faunus over his back, tossing the man into one of the others, releasing him as he went.

The staff came back up in time to block a crowbar from splitting his skull, then flicked to the left to divert it, before the top end slid down the man's arm to strike his shoulder with a loud crack. The ganger yelped and dropped the crowbar, letting Sun kick it away and sweep the staff end that had hit his shoulder out and back in again, this time at the side of his face. The faunus dropped hard.

The second he did, Sun yanked the staff back and released it, causing it to lunge the opposite way, the end of it ramming into the chest of someone charging him in the back. Bouncing off him, Sun caught the staff again and feinted three thrusts. The faunus tried to block each, jerking his meat clever up and down but never quite reaching the right spot in time. Sun feinted a fourth time for the faunus' foot to make him spread his legs, then drew back and stabbed between instead, hitting the concrete before sweeping the staff up.

Jaune winced. The faunus squealed, dropped and held his crotch.

That left only three – one of whom was trapped under the horse faunus, and the other backing away with his hands held out. He glanced to his boss and ran, leaving the wolf alone against the money. Completing a pirouette with his staff, Sun stamped it down behind him, hand twisted behind him, and leant back almost forty-five degrees, taking a lazy almost falling asleep pose with the staff propping him.

"Well, that was a nice warm up. That means it's just you, pal. Unless you want to howl and summon the pack?"

"The White Fang will remember this!"

"I'm quaking. Really, I am."

"You'll rue the day you fucked with Fenris!"

"Picked that name yourself, didn't you? No way your mom called you that."

It was too much for `Fenris` apparently. The wolf faunus tore out a knife and charged in, lunging for Sun's stomach. His position wasn't a good one and though he swept his staff back and stood, it was too slow. Jaune cried out a warning, "Sun!"

Klink.

The knife impacted and bounced away, tinkling onto the pavement. Fenris kept going, slamming into and off Sun's chest and crashing to the floor, dazed, and confused. "B-But I hit you. I stabbed you."

Sun turned his head back their way, winking. "Abs of steel, babes. Abs of steel."

"We know what aura is," Ilia groused. "Show off."

"Hah. Ruin all my fun." Sun swept his staff into the downed man's head, knocking him out at last. "Well, that was a fun way to spend the morning." He knelt, took the discarded poster and offered it to them. "You two be alright for now? I'm kinda obligated to call the police and look after these guys. Huntsmen rules," he said, yawning. "We're clear to take down crooks if we see 'em, but we have to call the proper authorities and watch over them. Loads of rules involved. You wouldn't believe it."

"We'll be fine," Ilia said. "Thank you for your help."

"Heh. Can't leave two pretty girls in trouble now, can I?"

"I'm a guy," Jaune growled.

"Notice you didn't dispute the `pretty` part, though." Sun winked and clicked his teeth, making Jaune blush and Ilia burst out laughing. "A'ight, I'll see you two around probably. You be careful now – and watch out for the _real_ White Fang. They won't be this dense, and they might take offence at you offering faunus a way out that isn't terrorism."

"Y-Yeah." Jaune forced a smile. "We'll be careful. Thanks for your help, Sun."

The faunus huntsman grinned and waved them off, pulling out his scroll to call the police. That was definitely their cue to leave and Jaune followed Ilia around the corner before they started to move a little quicker.

"I thought you said all faunus would know what FCA meant?" he hissed.

"I can't account for idiots, Margery."

"Is that the kind of recruits we can expect?"

"Sun? _Huntsmen_!?" Ilia laughed. "In your dreams."

"No. I meant the idiots…"

"Ah. Well, not even that good in most cases." His utter disbelief must have shown. "It's worse, I'm afraid. At least they're willing to fight and have some muscle. We're going to end up with any disenchanted faunus. That might include pregnant women, orphaned children, angry overweight men. Anything. They'll be _normal people_, though. Clerks, sales reps, receptionists, librarians, factory workers. We're pulling from those living hard lives and without much to look forward to. They're not going to be the best of the best." Sighing, she added. "In fact they'll probably be the worst…"

"Why would we even want them? Our team is small but it's competent."

"Bodies. We can't accomplish much with less than ten people. We simply _need_ more bodies to do bigger work. And Sienna wants the White Fang re-established in Vale, preferably to a point where we could leave without it imploding again. Remember, me, Yuma and Trifa are here on loan. We're not Vale citizens."

"There's no escaping it?"

"None. We need recruits."

"Even those idiots?"

"Even the idiots," she said sadly. "At which point the goal isn't to help them become better but to stop their idiocy effecting the rest."

"Bloody hell." If he honestly had to deal with them, he wasn't sure what he'd do. The White Fang – _his White Fang_ – were trying to be better. Trying to be good. Having muscle-brained idiots howling and threatening people would tank their reputation. "I'll have to ask Lisa for ideas. Maybe get her involved."

"Not a bad idea; she's used to speaking and being at events."

"How did Adam deal with the difficult recruits?" he asked.

"Oh, Adam had a real clever way of dealing with them actually."

"Yeah?" he asked, intrigued. It was rare of Ilia to compliment the dead man on anything.

"Hmhm. See, Adam knew they'd only infect other squads if he split them up. A group of people is only as smart as their dumbest member. He kept them on one team instead so he could keep an eye on them. That team had a really important job, too."

"Okay. That makes sense. What was their job?"

"Right. See. They got these nice padded vests…"

Jaune's stomach sank. "Ilia…"

"And then they were told to run at the Grimm."

"Ilia, no. Please stop."

"And then we didn't have nearly as many problems!"

"Fucking Adam." Jaune groaned into his hand. "We're not monsters anymore, Ilia. We don't kill our own people just because they annoy us. If we did, Perry would have never made it this far. If any of our recruits cause trouble, we'll have to find another way to deal with them. Something a little less pure unadulterated evil."

"I think Adam's Blake-themed poetry book is still laying around."

"I said _less_ evil, Ilia. Less evil."

/-/

Sun looked up to the approaching Bullhead with a fair bit of curiosity. Either the police in Vale had way more budget than they did in Mistral, or someone a little more important was showing up. They shouldn't be – these guys were obviously idiots – but it made sense they'd have to take the threat seriously if names like `White Fang` were being thrown around.

The door on the side opened and four people jumped out, plummeting down before nailing a pretty damn good landing if he was any judge. Sun clapped with his staff resting against the inside of his elbow.

"Never fear! Team RWBY is here!" the one in red yelled, twisting a badass scythe out from behind her back. "To protect the citizens of Vale from devastation…"

The other three girls wilted.

"I _said_, to protect the citizens of Vale from devastation!" the leader yelled. "Weiss, it's your line next!"

The white-haired girl with a very pink face had her lips sealed firmly shut.

"Gah. Blake. Fill in!"

"Kill me," the feline faunus whined, shrinking from view. "End my suffering."

"Guys!" Red rounded on them. "We practiced this! We rehearsed this!" Her scythe pointed at each in turn. "Don't make me tell Coco you all chickened out. You _know_ she'll make us do it in front of the whole school."

_That_ got a reaction. Flinches mostly, followed by painful resignation. The chipper reaper turned to him again, sweeping her scythe out to the side. Behind her, her three embarrassed teammates took their own poses, weapons out, faces red, eyes closed, surrounded by flashes from numerous cameras and scroll pictures.

"Never fear! Team RWBY is here!"

"What if I'm a villain?" Sun asked loudly, startling the girl. "Should I be afraid then?"

"Uh. Well yeah. Yes."

"So it's not never fear, right?"

"Uhhh..." Her eyes narrowed. "Citizens never fear, but villains totally should. Team RWBY is here, a force for good!"

"Ruby, nooo!" the blonde girl whined, covering her face. "My street cred. I'll never be able to show my face in Patch again!"

Sun wiped a tear from his eye. "I love this city…"

* * *

**A wild abs appears! Oh right. Sun. Yes, the abs have a name. I forgot.**

**Sun in this story never actually went to the docks with Blake since Ruby revealed the truth about Blake before she could run away and they went as a team, so while he's been in Vale, he wouldn't have met Jaune and Ilia before, or enough to recognise them anyway. **

**And this certainly won't be the last we see of the – Aroooo! Da White Fang!**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 23****rd**** June**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	17. Chapter 17

**The troll is back and imitating me and others in the reviews, this time trying to make it look like I'd attack my own reviewers because **_**obviously**_** that's a thing I'd randomly do from a guest account. Ignore the nonsense.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 17**

* * *

The place Ilia picked out for the White Fang recruitment pitch was a warehouse. Another warehouse a decent distance away from their own, but a warehouse all the same. Vale seemed to like those. When he pointed that out, Deery explained that since much of the land outside the cities was dangerous, more and more goods – be it food, dust, or consumer goods – had to be kept within the walls where it would be safe.

Ergo, land took on premium value and the simple act of storage became more complicated. Most of the warehouses were owned by a few wealthy investor groups and were rented out at exorbitant prices. They were lucky one such investor was sympathetic enough to the White Fang to give them theirs.

"You know a lot about warehouses," Jaune pointed out, wondering if that sounded like he was calling her boring. "Is that what you work in on the outside?"

"Close. Commercial property."

"You're an estate agent?"

"In a word." Deery checked her mask for the third time. They were all of them masked apart for him, where it didn't really matter. "I work for a company that has a load of branches across the Kingdoms. The pay is… well, it's commission most of the time, and zero-hour contracts."

"How does that work?"

"I take what work I can find, sell on their behalf and get a miserly cut if I can arrange something. When I can," she added mournfully. "Sometimes you do all the footwork only for some exec to sweep in, sign the deal off and claim it as his own. Course, it's my word over theirs. You can imagine how that goes."

"Is it because you're a faunus?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It's not like they ever say the word. Might be they do it to everyone." Shrugging, she held open the warehouse door for him. "This place is a lot more run down than ours. It's not going to send the best message to the recruits."

"That'll just ensure we get the most dedicated," Jaune said, lying through his teeth. The reality was that his best efforts to sabotage the whole thing were being employed from moment one.

Though to be fair, holding the meeting in front of a giant robot and in their `supposed to be secret` base probably wasn't wise anyway. There'd almost certainly be moles and undercover agents among those in attendance today. They'd make the faunus officers do that, and he couldn't tell if that was simple necessity of them being faunus and thus disguising easier, or some subtle form of callousness.

Maybe they'd been asked if they were willing; maybe they hadn't. Even if they had, how could he say there wasn't some leverage involved? _Now I'm falling down the same rabbit hole Adam did. I can't assume racism in every decision, or I'll start screaming at people keeping animals as pets because they happen to have similar animal features to faunus._

Things had been easier before the lumber camp. Back then, he'd seen innocence in every racial implication, always taking the side of the accused. It was an accident; he didn't mean it; people were too sensitive. Funny how quickly that changed. He wasn't sure a complete one-eighty was the best result either.

"Boss." Yuma greeted him inside, mask in place and uniform so clean it looked brand new. The bat faunus seemed to be standing taller, proud of what they'd accomplished.

What was that really? What _had_ they accomplished?

_Two people are in prison because of us,_ he thought. _That's two people that would be preying on others if we didn't do something about it._ It was an overall net positive. Why had they been allowed to do that in the first place, though? _There shouldn't be a situation where bad people can even do good things, let alone get away with it._

Was that too idealistic? He didn't think so. He wasn't asking for the Grimm to leave humanity alone or for the rich to stop hoarding money and give to the poor. All he was asking was that the city follow the laws it put down. That some big-name employers had the common decency not to take advantage of their staff and then try and cover it up, or that people could work without fear of being assaulted.

How was that idealistic? It was basic human decency.

"Boss…?"

"Sorry," he said, almost automatically at this point. "Lost in thought. How are things looking?" he asked, unsure what he really meant but knowing it would get Yuma talking. "Are things on track?"

"Warehouse is secure and everything is in place. Bane and Perry did a check of the perimeter and I had Ilia and Trifa shadow them. Normal procedure," he said. "Adam always liked to send a decoy patrol out first – make any enemies think they'd dodged it – then follow up with a more hidden patrol following after."

"Trifa and Ilia would be good at stealth work, I guess."

"They're the best." Yuma grinned. "Don't tell Trifa I said that, though. Might go to her head." His smile faded and he nudged Jaune's shoulder with his fist. "Hey, you okay, boss? You're looking… well, out of sorts. Or like you're going to a funeral."

Nerves and disappointment for the most part, along with that dreaded doubt at the thought of expanding their team with so many unknowns, any of which could be either an undercover agent or a fanatic waiting to go crazy. He said as much to Yuma.

"Yeah, it's a fine line. Something you just have to deal with. You shouldn't worry, though. Keeping an eye on the rank and file is our job. Yours is to make the big decisions. Ilia, Trifa and I will be watching all the grunts to make sure none act out. Lisa wants to do background checks on them too."

"Really?" Relief trickled through him. "That'd be helpful. Might help us figure out which ones to be wary of."

"Hm. That's what I was thinking. She's useful, for a human."

"Yuma…"

"I know. I know. Didn't mean it bad, I swear."

"Good. You know, I wouldn't be against letting humans join if they really wanted to help the faunus." It wouldn't be a popular decision with Sienna, but it might be a way to prove he wasn't racist against humanity – which was pretty damn ironic since he _was_ human.

"Let's not shake the boat too much, yeah? I can only take so much crazy."

"You're already working with Lisa. She's human."

"And she's crazy," he said. "Proving my point."

A part of him wanted to ask what Yuma thought of working with _him_ in that case, before he remembered he was a terrorist leader who regularly talked to a dead man in his dreams. Not exactly the best example of sanity.

"Fair enough," he said instead. "Make sure you keep a close eye on the recruits then. I don't want anyone going after innocent people – any people," he added, "No matter how innocent or guilty the new recruits think they are."

"Might be something to stress in your speech then."

"I will be." Jaune sighed and looked out toward the open area before the raised `stage` he'd be addressing the recruits from. There was no one there yet, but that would soon change. "I'm just worried about what Sienna said before, about what those we turn away might get it in their heads to do…"

/-/

Ilia took her position on the right of the main door, looking in on the crowded faunus who had heeded the call. There were about sixty of them in total – more than expected if she were being honest. Jaune had certainly done a lot for their reputation. Sienna and the Albain brothers would be thrilled.

"That's the last of them," Trifa said as she took her position on the other side of the door. As the most combat capable, they were to buy time for people to escape if the huntsmen arrived. Yuma was on the roof keeping lookout and would delay them as best he could.

Legally though, they were fine to do this. Late night meetings in warehouses were obviously a little suspicious, but there were no laws against it so long as you owned or rented the space. The White Fang itself was an illegal organisation, but if the huntsmen came and crashed this when no violence was going on, it was bound to look bad. Considering how they'd been trying to one-up them lately, Ilia was confident the hardest part of the night would be dealing with the new recruits, not the law.

"I'm just glad I don't have to do the speech," she confided to Trifa quietly. "I never understood how Adam and Sienna could talk in front of so many people."

"I know what you mean, girl. Must be something you learn. You can't say Adam was a natural conversationalist."

"Not unless it was about Blake."

"And you're so different there," Trifa teased.

"Hey. At least I didn't write tacky poetry."

"No. You just asked your girlfriend to dress up as another woman."

"It was cosplay! I still don't get why she was so offended. She asked who I wanted her to dress up as."

"I think she was expecting a _fictional character_ and not your best friend."

"Oh shut up," Ilia growled, flushing bright red. Yes, looking back it'd been one of the dumbest moments of her life, but she'd been in the mood, things had been looking good and she blurted out the honest answer. Honesty, as it turned out, was not always best. "How good do you think Jaune will be at speeches? He looked nervous."

"I think anyone would be. Honestly, I reckon he surprises us." Trifa winked. "He's managed that enough times."

"You think he'll kill it?"

"I think it'll be something special." Her eyes lit up. "Sh. Sh. Here he comes."

Trifa and Ilia turned back to the stage, watching over the heads of the assembled recruits. They'd all been granted White Fang eye-masks as they entered. Smaller White Fang masks that only covered the eyes. It was both a way to make them feel more secure in their identities being hidden, and a way to mercifully warn those who had come _actually thinking_ this was a faunus support meeting, that it was White Fang. Those that looked suddenly nervous were told they could leave peacefully, no questions asked. There hadn't been many.

What remained were those who wanted to be here. They were a varied and eclectic bunch from all ranges of life. Ilia could pick out some in business suits, others in slacks and a few who looked like they'd fallen on hard times. Some were young, others old. Men and women were equally represented. It was a good pull. Jaune's methods really were working to improve their reputation.

Standing in the middle of the stage he looked so small but also different. It wasn't the hair or his stature or some magnetic force, but the fact he didn't have a mask on. It made him stand out. He looked like someone who had such incredible confidence that he didn't _need_ to hide his face. No one could stop him. He wasn't afraid. There was no attempt to hide his expressions either, letting everyone see his every emotion. No lies. No deceit. No cowering away from attention.

Of course, Ilia knew it was all because, as Jaune said, it was pointless for him to even wear a mask, but that wasn't how it looked to the recruits. They stared at the man unafraid to show his face with awe.

Jaune raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Immediately, a huge roll of white fell down from the ceiling, sliding down the wall behind him to form a canvass. With the aid of her night vision, she spied Perry in the rafters. Her eyes also picked out something in Jaune's hand. A button of some sort.

"Wait," Trifa said, eyes widening. "Tell me he isn't-"

The button was clicked, and words were projected onto the canvass.

"_The White Fang and You!"_

Beneath it was a huge smiley face.

Ilia's jaw dropped.

Trifa groaned.

"Welcome to my presentation," Jaune Arc, terrorist leader, said, walking sideways along the stage. "The White Fang and You! Three simple steps to helping the faunus in your area."

"W-What is he doing!?" Ilia hissed.

"He's giving a PowerPoint presentation," Trifa mourned. "When I said he'd surprise us, I didn't mean like this…"

"You might be wondering," Jaune continued. "What is the White Fang? Why should I be interested in joining? Aren't they violent?" The slide changed with another click of the button and the image became a picture of Bane – masked, but who else was that big – sitting in a field of yellow flowers with a butterfly on his finger. It was a very _Bane_ kind of image, but Ilia still wondered when they'd had the time to take it. "I'm here to answer a few of those questions."

_No one is wondering what the White Fang is. They're here joining it. They know already!_

"The White Fang was once a peaceful protest group…"

Ilia screamed internally, frozen in silence beside the door as she watched her esteemed leader go over things every single person in attendance already knew – and worse, go over it with happy looking slides and grand gestures with both hands. It was official. Jaune Arc had many skills, but public speaking was not one of them.

"-and that's where we come in," Jaune said, switching to a new slide showing himself on the front page of a newspaper. "Our work here in Vale is different from what goes on in many other White Fang operations. Instead of violence for the sake of spreading terror, we're exposing the corruption at the heart of society by dealing with those responsible directly."

Okay. Better. Still with stupid slides of clip-art cartoon characters being escorted to jail by big, blue police officers. And there were stick figures with White Fang masks sketched around it cheering happily. Honestly, if he'd just _talked_ and skipped the slides, it might have looked a lot more heroic.

"What are our goals?" he asked the audience. Several hands went up and he ignored them all, turning to point the clicker at the screen. Bullet points appeared one by one as he said them. "One, to better the image of the White Fang. Two, to make ourselves _legally accepted_ within Vale. Three, to expose the inequality in a way people cannot ignore. Four, to make a difference that is lasting."

Ilia blinked. Half of those things she hadn't even been aware of herself.

"How will we do this?" Jaune asked.

He clicked the button.

Trifa made a choking noise, hacking with pure fury.

"Whooo!" someone in the crowd screamed. "Sexy calendars!"

Visibly confused, Jaune turned around to look at the screen. On it, a picture of Trifa on a Menagerie beach posing in a silver bikini with a fruit cocktail was displayed in full colour, splashed across the back wall of an entire warehouse. The Trifa on the picture was winking saucily at the camera.

The Trifa beside her was choking to death.

Ilia had a feeling Yuma _would be choked to death_ before the end of the day.

"Huh. I don't know how that one got in there." He changed the picture, much to the dismay of the crowd. The new picture was far less exciting, depicting them handing out food to the homeless. "We will do this by helping those that cannot help themselves." The picture changed, this time to them in masks sneaking into a building. "By finding and exposing the cruel-"

This one earned a roar of approval from the audience.

The final image was them handing the corrupt Elizabeth Tanner over to the huntsmen. "And finally, by working within the bounds of the law where possible." He waved his hands at the audience. "How we're _not_ going to handle it is this!"

Adam's face appeared on the main screen. It was Ilia's turn to choke.

"No Adam. Nothing Adam would do. See no Adam; hear no Adam; speak no Adam."

The worst part was that Adam was infamous among faunus. That meant that, ironically enough, what Jaune had said made _perfect sense_ to those in attendance. They all knew the kind of things Adam did, him being as well-known to faunus as Jacques Schnee was to humans.

"If in doubt, I've come up with a catchy phrase for you. W.W.A.D." Each letter was printed on the screen. "What would Adam Do? All you need to do in a given situation is ask yourself `What would Adam Do` and then do the exact opposite. Do we kill?" The picture showed a stock photo of a man in a balaclava with a gun. "No. We don't. Because killing makes people sad."

The photo changed to a grumpy looking child.

"Do we take prisoners and deliver them to the police? Yes we do – because that makes everyone happy."

The next photo was another stock one, and one Ilia was sure she'd seen on adverts online. It had several office workers jumping up in joy, throwing paperwork and calculators into the air. She was sure there was a Christmas tree in the background, but Jaune changed the image so fast she couldn't be sure.

"In short, the White Fang is _not_ a group of murderers. We are _not_ faunus supremacists. We will _not_ be attacking humans, subjugating faunus into our ranks or making life difficult for the people of the city. Think of us more as freedom fighters working to help everyone in Vale, regardless of race." Jaune crossed his arms. "Any questions?"

A hand was raised. "Can we see the swimsuit girl again?"

"I think we're done here."

/-/

"You did a PowerPoint presentation."

Jaune looked to Ilia. "Was I not supposed to?"

"You were meant to do a speech."

"I spoke."

"Well yes, but I mean…" Ilia grasped for her point but couldn't quite find it. "PowerPoint!" she blurted out. "You even used clipart and stock photos!"

"I know." Jaune smiled proudly. "I even credited them. Except for the Trifa one. I knew asking Yuma to help would bite me in the ass. You think she's angry? Ah, who am I kidding. I'm waking up webbed to my bed. And not in a kinky way."

"Comic sans!" she wailed.

"Comic what now?"

"The font! The text!"

"Oh that. I just picked it off the scroll down list. Thought it looked cool. It worked, didn't it? People signed up."

They had, but the reality was that most of the people came intending to sign up anyway, and the speech was meant to be more of a whipping them into shape kind of thing. It wasn't that he'd done a bad job of that per se. People knew now what to expect and would be less likely to act out by accident. It was just, well, the White Fang had a certain image. Or she liked to think it did. They were a serious operation. This was serious work.

"Why couldn't you just do a speech?"

"I didn't want anyone to get confused."

"We're terrorists! Where is the confusion!?"

"Look, I really don't see the problem. Also, the undercover agents who came along won't see the problem either."

Ilia froze. He… He had a point. That presentation had been so nice and so soft – Adam would have called it limp – that the undercover officers had no reason to arrest them and nothing to report back on. If they'd gone in with the usual, the recording might have made its way online as proof of how violent they were. It had in the past with Adam's.

If this went online then people would laugh at them, sure, and Trifa would have choice words, but no one would look at it and say `look at those violent extremists` or call them monsters. They'd say it was a nice message and a better way of doing things than the old White Fang.

"You're playing to the city," she realised.

"Huh?"

"You did that on purpose so if the authorities get a hold of it, they'll know we're not trying to break laws or hurt people."

"Oh, that. Pretty much, yeah. We're already doing that and it's working with Beacon. I thought this'd work too, though I was more trying to stop the recruits acting out than to convince anyone we're good." He looked excited. "Do you think it worked that way, though? Do you think the public will accept that?"

"No."

His face fell, but she only meant it as a not yet. They might in time, assuming the White Fang could stick to its guns and not slip into old habits. Right now, there were too many people who clung to hating them. Not always because they were faunus either. They could have been campaigning for environmental change or rights for women. No, the reason a lot of powerful people hated them was because they represented change, and change might upset the happy balance they'd created and were taking advantage of.

It might not, but even the risk it might make their lives slightly less perfect would have them stand against the White Fang even if they were handing out cures for cancer and Anti-Grimm Repellent.

On Jaune's part though, it was a clever ruse. Play himself off as an idiot. Look bumbling and silly, but kind-hearted. People would smile and laugh, and some would nod and think he raised good points, but none – none at all – could suggest he was someone capable of killing Adam Taurus in cold blood.

Better still, if he knew already that most of the recruits were going to sign up either way, then nothing had been lost. Sure, she and Trifa got to feel embarrassed and all, but they still had their recruits. The White Fang's Vale sect had ballooned from under ten to over fifty members. Sienna would be happy.

He was playing them. Playing everyone. It wouldn't matter what the rank and file thought, only what he decided. He called the shots, so they could do whatever they wanted, but as long as they showed they'd tried to keep the recruits in check, any accidents would be blamed on them, not Jaune and the leadership.

"Is there no way this could have been done without a presentation, though?"

"You're really hung up on that. I'll have you know my presentations were the envy of the classroom."

"Classroom-?"

"My mom used to help me with them."

"Okay, Jaune-"

"And she always used to say, the best way to explain something to a person is with slides and a presentation."

"Jaune-"

"It's how she potty trained Amber."

"What-?"

"Admittedly, it didn't go well. I guess a two-year-old couldn't understand a four-point bathroom plan. That or she got distracted by the pictures of singing and dancing toilet seats. I think that's more a target audience error than a problem with the presentation though."

"I… I don't even want to know."

"Boss." Tukson pushed the door open and stepped through, mouth set in a narrow line beneath his mask. "We're finished reviewing the recruits. We've picked apart a couple who show promise and thought you might want to meet them."

"Should I?" Jaune asked her.

"They could be potential leaders down the line," she said. "Probably ones who'd be best at fighting. That means they could also potentially be the worst troublemakers, so it's not a bad idea to put your foot down early."

"Makes sense."

He stood and followed Tukson, Ilia following behind him. Yuma and Bane were busy equipping the new recruits with masks and explaining the basics to them. Small things they needed to know like cyphers and rules and how to know when a meeting was called. All of it was carefully monitored at this stage. The bigger secrets like their hiding spot and equipment wouldn't be shared until they knew they could be trusted.

That Jaune left that to them was the wiser decision. He was a good leader, but they had experience and knew how to run the little things. Adam liked to have a hand in everything, and while he'd run them successfully enough, there'd always been the question of what would happen if, or when, he died.

"We've picked out two in total," Tukson said. "First is a local and knows the area well. Not so much in the way of brains from what I can see, but he looks like he knows his way around a fight and the passion is definitely there." He cracked the door open just a little. "Take a look. Perry is inducting him."

Jaune peeked through the door and pulled back with a flat expression. The word `unimpressed` couldn't have described anyone better. "Pass."

"Pass?" Ilia asked. "You're not even going to talk to the guy?"

"You can if you like. Feel free."

Frowning, Ilia reached for the door, only to hear a howl from within.

"Aroooo! And then I come slamming down on the human like a wolf. Fenris for the White Fang! Aroooooooo!"

"Pass," Ilia echoed, pulling the door shut. "Absolute pass."

Tukson shrugged with the kind of expression that said he didn't care either way. Moving on, he led them to the next room. "This one has a little more brains on him. Brawn too. Plenty of it." The room the recruit was in had a window along one wall and might once have been someone's office. Tukson brought them up to it so they could see Trifa talking to the man inside. "Surprisingly friendly for how big he is. Trifa thinks he might have training, and there's benefits to having a sunnier disposition."

Jaune sighed. "I know him."

"He's wearing a mask."

It was Ilia who said, "We'd recognise those abdominals anywhere."

Jaune pushed into the room and the masked faunus with blond hair looked up and grinned. "Hey. It's Margery."

"Sun. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm a faunus, aren't I?" He spread his arms, which just so happened to stretch his chest muscles in a way even Ilia admitted looked nice. A little too tight for her tastes, but as attractive as a marble sculpture. "Though I admit, my motives are a little more selfish. Ever since I saw the beautiful Margery, I've not been able to get her out of my mind."

Trifa looked confused. "Margery?"

"Tell you later," Ilia said.

"Or never," Jaune countered. "And this isn't exactly a good thing. Sun is a huntsman."

Ilia knew it but Trifa and Tukson instantly reached for their weapons.

"Whoah! Whoah!" Sun laughed and waved them down. "Chill, guys. Chill." He stood without a care in the world – and why not? He was more than strong enough to hold his own. Ilia was sure with Trifa on side she could take him, but they probably couldn't stop him escaping if he wanted to.

Though to be fair, he'd made no effort to disguise himself and had as good as called Jaune and her out. "Relax," Ilia said. "I don't think he came here to fight. Trifa, why don't you and Tukson go prep some of the others while we talk with Sun."

The two of them looked to Jaune for confirmation and left when he nodded along with her words. Sun watched the door close, smiled and sat down on his seat once again, hooking his hands over his head and leaning back on two feet precariously.

"You know, it was kinda embarrassing to be told by the local huntresses that I came face to face with Jaune Arc and didn't realise it."

"I told you I was a guy."

"Yeah, along with half the population of Remnant. `Guy` isn't exactly specific." Despite the criticism, Sun didn't stop grinning. "I was a little annoyed with myself at first. Must have been the hair colour that threw me off. Then I got to looking stuff up about you. Couldn't quite understand how the two people I met are apparently bloodthirsty terrorists."

"Bloodthirsty? I haven't killed anyone…"

Ilia coughed. "Adam."

"Anyone that matters, I mean."

"That's the thing," Sun said. "The more I read, the more interested I got. Enough that I couldn't tell if you're legit with this trying to do good thing or just playing it to get people to lower their guards."

There were times Ilia wasn't sure either.

"So, you decided to come find out?" Jaune asked.

"If you want a job done properly, best do it yourself. The White Fang haven't done much for us faunus." His words had Ilia scowling. "In fact, they usually make it worse. I thought it was the same here, but after checking the news, well, things are a little different. People are talking about the _good_ you've done, and you know what, I can dig some of it."

"You… can…?"

"Sure. I read the article about the businessman. Piece of crap by the sounds of it. I watched the vod of you and the bikini girl in the SDC camp."

"I thought we blurred her face."

"You did, but that body is a little distinctive, you know."

"Don't mention her faunus traits," Ilia warned him. "Those are a touchy subject."

"The what now?"

"The grey markings? The visible veins?"

Sun blinked behind his new mask for a few seconds.

Ilia sighed.

"You meant her tits, didn't you?"

"Well yeah. What were you talking about?"

"Typical man," she hissed.

"Weren't you picking Sun out by his abs?" Jaune asked. Ilia drove her elbow into his side, but the damage was already done, and Sun's already huge ego inflated just a little further.

"Anyway." Sun wore the most shit-eating of grins. "I watched the whole thing and felt pretty fucking angry. It's not like me to be honest. I really wanted to smash someone's face in. And the thing is, maybe you were acting it like some people are saying, but I didn't buy it. Your reactions felt real." He frowned. "I won't lie, it hurt a bit watching that."

"It wasn't fun being there either…"

"I can imagine. Glad that bitch is in court – and screwed by the sounds of it. So, yeah. Imagine my surprise when the more I read and watched, the less sure I was that the next time I saw you, I was going to hand you in."

"And now you're here."

"And now I'm here," he said.

"What's your goal in all of this?"

"Jaune," she snapped. "He's not just going to admit-"

"I want to keep an eye on you. Make sure you're as good as your word."

Ilia's mouth dropped open. "You think we'll just let someone with no loyalty into-"

"Great. You're in."

"J-Jaune!?"

Even Sun looked surprised. "I am?"

"Sure. I've nothing to hide and I've not done anything wrong."

"You killed Adam!" Ilia yelled.

"Hold that over my head forever, why don't you." He rolled his eyes. Aggravatingly, so did Sun. Every faunus knew Adam Taurus and his misdeeds. "Point is, I've not done anything bad to _innocent people_ and I don't intend to start now. So sure, if Sun wants to tag along and watch my every action, I say let's go for it. It'll only help prove I'm as good as my word."

"That's a lot of confidence," Sun said, grinning once more. "I like it. Makes me think you're half as serious as you say you are. I hope you realise that if you step out of line, I'm going to take you down. No second chances if I'm there."

Jaune could _not_ accept this! He was going to limit himself far too much. "Jaune, I really think we need to have a private talk about this-"

"Nah, it's cool." Jaune laughed her off. Ilia wasn't sure if she wanted to pull her own hair out or his. "Besides, this isn't exactly a choice thing, is it?"

Ilia froze. "What?"

"You caught me," Sun said with a little laugh. "Yeah, my partner is waiting for my call to tell him I'm okay. Me not calling back means he tells Beacon what happened to me. You're pretty smart to see through that, bro."

He had a dead switch. Crap. Even if they could take him, they couldn't imitate him well enough to trick his team and it'd be obvious when he didn't return alive. Jaune's new vision for the Vale White Fang couldn't survive that kind of blow. It would tear their credibility to shreds.

Honestly, she wouldn't have expected this level of cunning from a muscle head.

And Jaune was right to agree. If they couldn't stop him either way, the only thing to do was play along with such bravado that Sun never even once suspected their ulterior motives.

Ilia watched with bated breath as Sun and Jaune shook hands.

* * *

**Sun joins the White Fang, though of course it's in his own way – he's too much a good guy to do it properly. In a way, I feel like Sun might be the kind of guy to do this too. He all but sides with Blake just because she looks down on her luck and he goes so far out his way he travels to Menagerie and risks his life to look after her.**

**And to what, be written out the series randomly after? You'd have at least thought he'd stick around to see the fight he's been invested in for so long done with. **

**Is this the fabled Sun x Jaune pairing? Could it be…?**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 7th July (I made an error and put 30th June - thanks all for letting me know!)**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	18. Chapter 18

**Just heading off something I've had a few people ask in PM's. I feel like it should be obvious by what I've shown before, but here goes. No, I am not changing Ilia from gay to straight. Ilia is interested in women. That should be obvious by now. Any friendly interaction with Jaune is just that. I don't subscribe to the school of thought where a blush means romance. Ilia can blush at something Jaune says and vice versa and have it mean nothing. It's just them being embarrassed about something.**

**Just keep that in mind. I've already said I'll not reveal pairings and I won't, but since some people are really getting worked up over it to me, I'll confirm this is not Jaune x Ilia. **

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 18**

* * *

If there was one small benefit of being the leader of an operation like the White Fang, it was that he didn't have to get his hands dirty. He had minions for that. Employees sounded better, but he wasn't paying them, while recruits didn't fit because they had a fresh batch of those. Adam suggested compatriots in his dreams, but that hinted a little too close to Jaune being an actual terrorist, so they – and by they he meant he – decided to call them minions.

Ilia didn't care for it.

Yuma thought it hilarious.

His minions were currently handling the initial training of the new White Fang recruits – those that had stuck around. To the surprise of only Jaune, everyone else said it was common, only about half the people who `joined up` with them the night before showed today. Cold feet, Ilia said. A sudden case of the nerves, Trifa called it. Pussies, Yuma called them.

Jaune called them smart. The others didn't get it.

Still, those that remained – around twenty in all – were the more loyal and dedicated of the bunch, which directly translated to fanatical and therefore dangerous. Whipping them into shape had been the obvious choice, though not, as one might have thought, in the conventional sense.

"You come across an elderly human lady crossing the street," Sun barked. "What do you do?"

"Make an example of her!" Fenris roared. "For the Fang! Arooooo!"

"Wrong! Twenty push-ups!"

"Ignore her?" another tried.

"Wrong! Ten push-ups!"

"Ask her if she's single."

"Wrong. And ewww! Five laps of the warehouse. You _help_ the old lady. Do you understand? We're trying to improve our reputation, not kill it. You _help_ the old lady across the street." Sun wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. "Am I understood?"

"Yes Solar Flare!"

Jaune sighed and approached. "Sun-"

"Ah." Sun stopped him. "Solar Flare. It's my codename."

"Sun, no one uses codenames."

"Really? You tellin' me `Banesaw` is his real name?"

"Yes."

Sun blinked. "Huh. Well we _should_ use codenames. What's the point of masks to hide our identity if we're going to call one another by name?"

"If you want to disguise yourself you should wear a shirt."

"I _am_ wearing a shirt."

Jaune glanced down at the wide-open scrap of white cloth bravely clinging to Sun's shoulders and little else. It was a battle he wasn't sure he wanted to get into – and one he wasn't convinced any of the female recruits of the White Fang would thank him for. Other than Ilia. Aside from being not interested in Sun for obvious reasons, she'd developed something of a hate for him for entirely unrelated ones.

"Solar Flare?" she sniped. "That's practically the same as Sun. I guess I shouldn't expect vast intellect from someone like you."

"Ilia," he returned. "You're looking green today."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not using my chameleon abilities."

Sun grinned. "I meant the jealousy."

"Pft. As if I could be jealous of _anything_ you have." Tossing her head, she turned to him. "Jaune, I really don't think it's a good idea to let this idiot into the leadership of the organisation. We were doing perfectly fine with just the few of us."

"Wasn't it you with Sienna who pushed for me to recruit more people?"

"Uh. W-Well yes, but I've changed my mind." Planting her hands on her hips, she defiantly asked, "Are you saying I can't change my mind?"

"Right now? Yes. It's a little late for that." Sun was doing fine, too. He was the one person here who fully subscribed to the same ideals he did, so if he could impart that on some of the idiots – especially that one idiot – then all the better. "Besides, I need you with me to find our next target."

"What's this?" Sun asked. "Not gonna rough someone up for information, are ya?"

"It's none of your business!" Ilia snapped.

"It's our informant," Jaune said.

"Jaune!"

"Oh. Cool. Can I come?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Jaune!" Ilia stamped her foot on his. "No!"

"I already said yes," he apologised. "Besides, we've nothing to hide."

"We're terrorists. We have _everything_ to hide. Not to mention out informant wants to remain secret." Tugging his arm, she pulled him away from Sun and the recruits. "We need to talk in private."

"Oh." Sun smirked. "Is that one of those women only conferences?"

Ilia sneered at him while still pulling Jaune out into a separate room. He allowed it, if only because he saw it as a convenient way to escape more training. Plus, Ilia was usually on point when it came to problems. "Okay," Jaune said. "You're mad. What's wrong?"

Closing the door, Ilia leaned against it, arms crossed under her chest. Her pout was legendary.

"I'm not mad."

"Ilia, I grew up with seven sisters. I can tell when I've said something to piss a girl off. I piss them off all the time."

"Don't objectify me."

"Technically, I'm objectifying myself. Accurately."

Angrily, she looked away. "Why do you trust Sun so easily?"

"He seems like a nice guy." It apparently wasn't the correct answer as Ilia's eyes snapped back to his, her lips tugging down. "And I mean, he's a huntsman, right? They're good people – always risking their lives to fight the Grimm. I wanted to be a huntsman."

"And they rejected you for being faunus and thus you joined the White Fang in anger?"

"Uh. No." A bead of sweat ran down his face. "Not quite."

"I guess it doesn't matter. He's not on our side, Jaune." Ilia pushed off the door and faced him. "We're terrorists; he's a huntsman. He's not even pretending to be loyal to us. He's here to catch you doing wrong and arrest you. He's basically an undercover cop."

"Except not undercover?"

"Yes!"

"Look, I get what you mean." He really did. Half the time he had no idea what he was doing, but not wanting to be arrested was a top priority. "The thing is, we're not intending to do anything he can trap us for."

"And what if he changes his mind? What if he turns on us?"

"He doesn't seem the type."

"People change," Ilia stressed. "Blake didn't seem the type either, but she betrayed us all. And it might not even be his choice. He's still a huntsman – what happens if Beacon finds out and threatens to expel him if he doesn't rat on us?"

That was a risk. It wasn't one they could prepare for, though. Realistically speaking any of them could be captured and given that choice. It didn't feel like a specific Sun problem. In fact, few of the things she'd said felt like they were directed all too personally at him. Jaune cocked his head to the side and asked, "What do you want me to do with him? I can't get rid of him."

"I-I know that." Ilia looked away. "Just trust him a little less. I'm – I mean we – are the ones you should trust."

"I do trust you."

Her lips drew upward. "Good."

A fist slammed on the door. "You two done making out in there?" Yuma called through. When Ilia wrenched the door open with a furious expression, the bat faunus smiled cheekily. "Oh hey, you're both still dressed."

"Yuma," Ilia seethed, stomping past him.

Jaune sighed. "Yuma. You know she's not like that."

"Oh, I know. Just wanted to rile her up. It's cute how possessive she's being right now."

"Possessive?"

"If you don't know, boss, you don't know. Let's just say a certain someone likes her new position as defacto second in command and leave it at that. Anyway, Lisa called to say she's finished the background checks. Asked if you wanted to come down to her place and pick them up."

"That's good timing. I wanted to find our next target off her anyway."

"Nice." Yuma's face lit up. "All this recruiting business has me going soft. About time we got a chance to go on another raid. Maybe try and make this one a little more focused toward faunus, yeah? I know, I know," he said when Jaune frowned. "We're helping everyone. I get that. I'm just saying the new recruits are still iffy on it all, so maybe go easy on them? This'll be their first mission. Might not want to blow their minds right away."

Hmm. He had a point. "I'll see what Lisa has available."

"Make it something action packed, yeah?"

"I'll do my best."

/-/

Ilia and Sun should have been a cat and dog faunus respectively. It would have made the elevator ride up to Lisa Lavender's penthouse suite a little more understandable. Frosty didn't begin to describe the atmosphere inside that glass box. They sniped, glared, made little comments, and otherwise took whatever pot-shots they could take. If Ilia weren't so blatantly into women, he'd have said she and Sun had a thing going on.

And they did. It was an angry working relationship thing.

Jaune sighed and adjusted his brown wig. He'd gone as a man today – a shock to everyone – and only tossed on a wig and a black suit jacket over his jeans. Since they were meeting late in the evening at a fancy apartment block, the only people he had to interact with was a taxi driver and a few people they walked past on the way in.

"-all that testosterone has clearly gone to your head if you think that."

"Well you keep bringing up my muscles. Mixed messages."

"If you're mistaking the message I'm sending you, let me make it abundantly clear – I don't trust you."

"Sure you don't mean you're jealous your boss trusts me as much as he does you?"

"Please. Jaune trusts me _far more_ than he ever would you."

"Yeah? Maybe we should ask him."

"Maybe we should!"

Sweat ran down Jaune's face. His eyes remained fixed on the reflective glass, though he tried to pierce beyond it and far into the distance where he wasn't trapped in a confined space with two nutcases.

"Jaune," Ilia demanded. "Which of us-"

The elevator pinged and opened. "We're here!" Jaune all but shouted, throwing himself out and at Lisa Lavender's door. He hammered on it urgently, practically weeping with relief when she opened it a second later to let them in.

"Whoah," Sun gasped. "Lisa Lavender!?"

"Sun Wukong," she returned, eyes narrowed. "Seventeen years of age, born and orphaned in Vacuo before winning a scholarship to Have. Leader of Team SSSN. Only Neptune Vasilias is in Vale – your current teammates are still in Haven but will arrive soon. Room 216 in Beacon. Second floor."

It was a threat. Lisa had been through all the files Yuma sent through and was as good as telling Sun she knew more about him than he did her. Enough to ruin him if he so much as considered revealing her name to the proper authorities.

Of course, Sun being Sun, he either missed it entirely or didn't care.

"That's so cool! Dude, you have _Lisa Lavender_ on your side." Sun grinned into Jaune's face.

"Trust an idiot not to realise when he's being threatened," Ilia snarled. To Lisa she said, "Please ignore him. He can only dedicate brain power to one thing at a time. I'm afraid his common sense has atrophied."

Lisa was still in her business suit from the day's news, and likely kept it on to welcome them. Leading them through the rather wide hall and into her living room, she gestured for them to take any of the numerous couches around a central coffee table. The back wall was glass, providing a wonderful view over Vale. The seats were comfortable and probably worth more than anything he could afford.

The whole apartment was much the same, though it had a plastic feel to it. The rugs and ornaments were all expensive and genuine, but nothing looked personal or used. It felt like one of those show homes estate agents set up, a stylised idea of what a house should be, lacking any of the personal touches the average person would make.

"Nice place you have here," Jaune said, more because he felt someone should say it.

Lisa smiled. "Thank you." Sitting down, she reached into a black, leather folder by her seat and drew out some plastic folders. Setting them on the table, she fanned them out into four separate sets. "These are the best targets I've been able to find. Each of them would be big wins for the White Fang."

"What kinds of targets?" Sun asked, suddenly much more serious. "How do you decide who gets _targeted_ by the White Fang?"

Lisa sent Jaune a quizzical look. He shrugged and gestured for her to answer if she wanted to.

"News stories that don't add up, off-the-record interviews or embargoed information. You'd be surprised what people will say to a journalist when they're under the protection of certain laws. I think it's an arrogance thing. They like to dangle their crimes in front of your face, knowing you can't do anything with the information. Others just don't try to hide it, or it's obvious when they do. My job is to investigate these things. Only, they don't always get exposed as they should."

Sun didn't look entirely convinced. He reached over and took one of the folders. Jaune and Ilia did the same, each taking one to have a brief read over. His own featured a smiling man with overly attractive features – he looked like a film star. Flicking through, he quickly found the angle Lisa wanted. The first page was a written article, presumably one she'd made for the newspapers only to have it cancelled or pulled for whatever reason.

One of Vale's biggest movie stars apparently speaking out against anti-faunus sentiment. On second inspection it turned out the man on the picture was the one speaking out, and the villains were the directors. He'd spoken out two years ago and, if this were right, been dropped and blacklisted from every movie set in the Kingdom. Atlas and Mistral, too. Lisa had dug a little deeper and highlighted how there hadn't been a single faunus actor in any film for the last ten years. Even faunus characters in movies were apparently played by human actors.

"This one is unfair," Jaune said, "But I'm not sure if it's enough to act on."

"The movies?" Lisa asked. "Yes, I put it there, but I wasn't sure. There's certainly something going on there, but it might be hard to isolate any one person behind it."

"Mine isn't a bad one," Ilia said. Leaning over, she showed him the front page. "It's the corrupt police officer from before. There's rumours he has ties to Roman Torchwick, though anyone who tries to investigate that usually ends up losing their job quickly. Or suddenly dropping the case, quitting and moving to another city."

"Torchwick is a well-known crook, right? It could do us a lot of good if we caught him." Plus, he was an undeniable criminal. It would help sell the fact they were a force for good. "Nice. I think we've got our targ-"

"Whoah. What!?" Sun slammed his folder down. "Is this accurate!?"

"Depends," Lisa said. "Is it the fashion show?" His nod said it all. "Then yes, it's accurate. I went there myself and spoke to two of the victims last year. It's a modelling agency," Lisa explained for him and Ilia. "They're one of the biggest in Vale and outwardly, they're one of the best. Plenty of attention for larger models, no unrealistic or unhealthy girls, wide range of ages. They even hire faunus models. On paper, they look fantastic."

"But?" Jaune asked.

"But there have been… stories from some of their past models. Specifically from the faunus ones. It goes beyond low pay and poor conditions. Apparently, the owners of the agency – Rosemary and Thyme."

"Rosemary and Thyme?" Ilia had to ask.

"They were a pair of models themselves and that was their stage names. They kept them after founding `Subtle Spices Fashion `. Anyway, they've been accused of using faunus for their own advantage. The first instances were benign and honestly, I didn't think much of it. Other agencies accused them of only hiring faunus to tick boxes and because it made them look more progressive." Lisa shrugged. "I didn't think much of it. Sounded like jealous competitors, and really, what did it matter if they were hiring for the right or wrong reasons? The problem is that the rumours only got worse."

"What are we looking at now?" Jaune asked. "What's the worst thing they've done?"

Sun was the one to answer. "How about forcing young faunus into shitty contracts they can't get out of?" He held up a piece of paper, which Jaune took and let Ilia look at with him.

"I managed to get that from one of the victims," Lisa said. "It's a copy of her contract. The important parts are highlighted in yellow. Basically, they're taking a cut of royalties and image right – which is expected – but what _isn't_ normal is that they're retaining rights after, and also including non-competition clauses that all but ruin their careers if they try to leave and find work elsewhere."

"Is this legal?" Jaune asked.

"Technically, yes, but it wouldn't stand up in court. Non-competition clauses must be limited – either by time or distance of the new company you work out. Since the agency has branches in every Kingdom, they're saying you can't work as a model for any other agency. Their period is ten years, which, I'll point out, is pretty much the lifespan of most models." Noticing their panicked expressions Lisa said, "Career lifespan. I meant the lifespan of the modelling career."

"Shitty contracts mean bad business, but it doesn't mean they're harming faunus." Ilia said that with a disgusted expression. "Even I have to admit that. Are we sure they're not just tricking gullible models into it?"

"The human contract is different," Lisa said simply. "They've also been accused of pressuring faunus into working for them. Since being a faunus model is still tough nowadays – some fashion brands refuse to let faunus model for them – there aren't a lot of options for young and upcoming faunus. They take advantage of that, trap them in contractual agreements and then force them into worse and worse shoots until they drain every drop of lien from them. Apparently, they also get quite forceful if you try and challenge them on the contract or bring in a lawyer. Two of the girls I spoke to had been threatened, and not just with legal action. To hear it from some `retired models` they like to take on, fleece and then break faunus models. Allegedly, it's because they once lost to a faunus on the catwalk. Possible motivation of vengeance, though taking it out on any and every future faunus model is a bit much."

"Well, that's enough for me." Ilia tossed the contract down. "I'm in. Jaune?"

"It sounds like a good place to take down," he agreed. "What do you say, Su-?"

"Burn it to the ground!"

"R-Right. Aren't you supposed to be keeping me less violent-? No, never mind." Wincing, he turned back to Lisa. "This definitely sounds like something we want to get involved in, but I'm not sure how we're meant to expose them. Sneaking one of us in as a modelling recruit sounds the obvious angle, but they'd have to go undercover for, like, months. Maybe even longer. Do you have any idea how we can get a jump start on it?"

Lisa's smile was far too self-satisfied. "I might have an opening for you."

/-/

In a large stately mansion turned venue on the outskirts of Vale, numerous well-dressed men and women chattered in a ballroom. Long buffet tables offered up small treats of expensive food, while staff brought out and set down chairs to either side of a long catwalk.

The signage on the walls and outside detailed the `Annual Vytal Fashion Show` - the industry's most famous event that ran coinciding with the Vytal Festival, though a month or so earlier. This year, Vale was to hold the Vytal Festival, and so too did it host the Vytal Fashion Show. Some of the most well-known fashion houses were in attendance, rubbing shoulders and networking, slyly undercutting competition, and forging contacts.

The doors to the mansion slammed open. Such was the noise that almost everyone turned to look at who would so rudely interrupt the Vytal Fashion Show. Vale's wealthiest frowned, investors and clothing brands alike stopping to sneer.

And to stare.

White. The man who sauntered in was dressed in a crisp white suit. His tight white pants clung to narrow hips leading up to a bright pink shirt open the top three buttons and showing just a little of his toned chest. The white jacket buttoned twice at the bottom had a popped collar leading up to a face obstructed by a feathery theatre mask that covered his eyes. Bright feathers in hues of green, purple, and blue fanned out in every direction, partially obscuring the man's golden hair and giving him an exotic flair.

The man was not alone. A man and a woman sashayed in beside him, both faunus. The male wore an ensemble of golden chains that linked from a necklace down over his bare, muscular chest down to a skirt of pleated leather and gold. His thick and powerful legs were clad in brown leather like some gladiator from ancient times, and he wore it well. His golden tail swung behind him, linked with little bells that chimed his every step. Blue and green makeup like paint had been drawn around his eyes, tilting up toward his ears like long, thick lashes.

On his other side, the woman bore no distinctive faunus parts but the way her skin colour would change to accentuate the silver ornaments she wore mesmerised the eye. Bedecked in feathers that reached up from her chest over her left shoulder and flaring up behind, and with a knee-length skirt of sequins that shimmered and changed colour as she did, the chameleon faunus moved with a dizzying and almost hypnotic array of colours and tones. Her bare stomach and arms, the little of her that was truly exposed, were toned and smooth, flat in a way few models could achieve.

Even then it wasn't done. A giant of a man well over seven feet tall dipped his head to fit within the door. His look was more Vacuan – like the ancient people of Vacuo, his skin was tanned and bunched with muscle, and bold black lines had been inked all over his body to create spiral patterns linking to his tight black pants. When he moved, every one of his muscles bulged, making the patterns stand out and stretch.

A bat faunus came next, topless but for black leather pants and embracing the devilish theme. His wings were spread, silver links of fine chains strung between them and stretched out like jewellery. He turned and presented his muscled back to them, stretching his wings apart and causing the finery dangling from each link to tinkle like wind chimes. Leather straps criss-crossed over his chest, entwined with red roses and dangling silver chains.

The last female faunus clung to the apparent leader's arm, her black dress sparkling and hugging her slim hips. Her silver hair – natural, it seemed, despite being young – fell to her shoulders, framing a soft and pretty face. Behind them both, a single bodyguard in a full black suit and black shades moved in, his beard bristling as he scanned the crowd.

As if unbothered by the attention and the grand scene they'd caused, the masked man in white helped himself to a flute of champagne from a passing water, handing it to his beau before taking one for himself. His models arrayed themselves, faunus bristling with animalistic power and might, muscles stretched and faunus features on full display.

Jaune felt ridiculous.

He looked it too – but he had a feeling no one was going to be sympathetic about that when they were all scantily clad in the most bizarre outfits he'd ever seen. Yuma looked like a stripper. Sun was bedecked in gold. Ironically, Ilia was the most conservatively dressed of all of them, and yet she was still sending him constantly angry looks.

It wasn't his fault fashion shows were weird.

Trifa tightened her arm around his hip to warn him of someone approaching. A man in a black suit with a clipboard and a strained smile. Jaune watched him through his overly feathery and sequin covered mask. It was a ridiculous thing that should have made him suspicious from moment one, but since Jaune Arc, terrorist leader, went around _without_ a mask, wearing one here for some reason made him look _less_ suspicious.

"_Lisa should have you in the competition."_ Deery's voice came through the earpiece he had under his mask. She and Perry were running communications from outside, allowing them to pass messages between one another even from different rooms. Lisa would also be remotely involved, but more to record and pick through what she heard through their cleverly hidden microphones.

Tukson stepped forward like the burly bodyguard he was disguise as, holding a hand over Jaune's chest as though to ward off an undesirable. The man paused out of range, bowing respectfully. It was hard not to notice how many people were staring at them.

"Excuse me, sir," the man said politely. "Might I have your name and the name of your fashion house? I'm afraid this is a very exclusive competition…"

"Ivory Tooth Studios," Tukson grunted. "We're on the list."

"Ivory Tooth. I've never heard – oh, you're here." The man looked downright apologetic as he looked back up, tapping his finger on the paper. "I _am_ sorry about that. Please, welcome. Would you like to have someone show your models backstage, Mr…? I'm afraid there wasn't a name provided for the fashionista in charge of Ivory Tooth."

"_Lavender must have left it blank for you to use your own,"_ Deery said.

"_No. Use a fake. Something that can't be traced to Jaune Arc."_ Perry cut in quickly.

"_Fashion people all have weird names, don't they? Wealthy rich people names, or stage names. Something to make you stand out."_

"_The weirder the better,"_ Perry agreed.

Considering Rosemary and Thyme were a thing, Jaune supposed they had a point. Smiling in what he hoped was a roguish manner to the man with the clipboard and pen waiting, he said, "My name is Vivian. Vivian von valk volkvan. You may call me… V. Or V.V. Or even V.V.V.V."

Trifa cringed.

"_Edgy. Mysterious."_ Perry said. _"I like it."_

"_Honestly, it's not as bad as some of the names I'm seeing on the guest list. Who the hell is Lady Goo Goo…?"_

"V-Vivian Van Von…? Von-van. I mean Volk Von...?" The clerk struggled with the name. "I… I shall just put Vivian down if that's okay?" Turning, he clicked his fingers. "Almond. Please come show Mr Vivian's models backstage. Thank you. Mr Vivian," he said, again to Jaune, "Please enjoy the welcoming party. The fashion show will begin soon after."

"Thank you."

Jaune took Trifa in hand and led her toward the ballroom while Sun, Ilia, Bane and Yuma were taken backstage. They'd be able to find and talk with the faunus models there, maybe even the human ones too to make sure this didn't go further than just them. That wasn't their only goal today, though.

"_Lisa said our best bet is if we can convince Subtle Spice to approach one of our models and try to poach them,"_ Deery said into his ear. Trifa leaned her head on his shoulder both in a romantic gesture and to listen in. _"That means Ilia or one of the guys will have to impress them."_

"Shouldn't be a problem," he mumbled. "They're all striking enough."

"_No, it's not that easy. This is a fashion show. The models are one thing but they're just the canvass. If we want Rosemary or Thyme to try and poach one of them away, they'll need to stand out."_

"_Which means they need to kill this show,"_ Perry said. _"Or more specifically, you need to kill it."_

Somehow, he didn't think they meant the murder variety of killing, which, for once, he wouldn't have been against. "I don't know anything about fashion," he whispered. "I wear jeans and a hoodie everywhere. I am _literally_ the worst person at fashion you could ever find."

"_Relax. Have you ever seen a fashion show? Trust me. It's anything but normal fashion."_

"Easy for them to say," Trifa whispered to him.

"Yeah. So, we not only need to fit in but _win_ this thing?"

"Winning isn't necessary. Only doing well. Well enough to draw their attention."

That was just as bad when he had no idea what he was doing. And for once, the voice in his head couldn't help – not unless Adam Taurus had a hitherto undiscovered passion for fashion. He doubted it. Edgy, black and red didn't look like it was in style.

"_We figured out a way to get the new recruits involved in this as well,"_ Perry said. _"It might even help you with the fashion part. They're all on laptops here scouring through the latest fashion mags, shows and trends. They'll be uploading details to your scrolls as they find them."_

"Hey. That's not so bad." It'd help him with ideas, give them something to do, keep them out of trouble _and_ let them get a taste for such valuable skills as information gathering and strategic communication. "Nice job, Perry." He saw a few people approaching. "Going silent. Wish us luck."

"_Nah boss, you got this."_

He really didn't.

/-/

"That's ilia."

Yang stared at the screen, leaning in to stare at the brief glimpse the cameras caught of a girl in a dress made up of feathers and sparkling light. There wasn't much she could pick out, but Blake apparently worked and lived with the girl for years before now.

"You're sure?" Yang asked. "Absolutely positive? This isn't something we can afford to mess up."

"I wouldn't say it was her otherwise. I'd recognise that face anywhere. The others – I don't know them by name, but that big guy looks like the one that nearly caught Weiss on the docks. Wasn't there one with bat wings as well?"

"There was," Weiss said. "I didn't want to assume based on height or just the fact he had wings. That felt racist even to me."

"It's definitely them," Blake said. "It's the White Fang."

"And why would the White Fang be infiltrating a fashion show…?"

"Hostages. Publicity."

"Not the old White Fang, Blake. This one."

"They're both the same! Jaune Arc is just biding his time." Blake gnashed her teeth. "We should strike while they're distracted and before they can do anything. They'll never see us coming."

"We can't," Ruby said simply.

"What? Why? Ruby, you can't be thinking of letting them get away-"

"I'm not."

"Then why…?"

"Because it's a fashion show." Ruby said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It wasn't at first, but that soon changed when she added, "And Coco Adel is in charge of us."

Weiss, Blake, and Yang paused to think. Yang wasn't sure if they _literally_ had the same image in their head, but her own of Coco roasting the four of them over an open fire for interrupting _the_ biggest fashion event of her year was probably unanimous enough.

"Coco will kill us…"

"Quite literally," Weiss said. "I think it'd be safer to shave Yang bald."

For once, Yang let that go. Weiss wasn't wrong. If they so much as disturbed the event, Coco was going to go nuts. Heck, she was probably glued to her screen right now popping popcorn. It wouldn't surprise her if she'd called in sick to class so she could lock herself away and watch it all.

"I've texted her," Blake said.

Ruby fell off her bed. "YOU DID WHAT!?"

"I texted Coco." Blake held up her scroll. "What? You're right. Going in on our own would make her furious, and she can make our lives miserable. I told her what we found instead. I figure she'd jump at the chance to attend this in person, even if it's as a huntress-" Blake was cut off by Ruby's hands on her collar, shaking her like a rag doll.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?" the normally sweet huntress screeched. "YOU'VE DOOMED US ALL!"

"W-W-What?" Blake stammered as she was shaken back and forth. "H-How have I…?"

"COCO. FASHION SHOW." Ruby whimpered. "US!"

"Us? Us what…?"

The door slammed inward. Coco stood in the entryway, foot extended, eyes burning, teeth shining like a neutron star. "Ladies!" she all but squealed. Squealed! "It has come to my attention that we need to infiltrate _the_ Vytal Fashion Show. Also, Blake, I take back everything, you are my _favourite_ Team RWBY member."

Ruby whimpered and tried to hide under her bed.

Blake looked confused. "Thank you…? So, are we going in to bust them?"

"Heck no! This is a publicity drive. We can't arrest them unless they do something wrong." Coco's eyes flashed dangerously. "We're going to _enter_ the competition. Or more specifically, you four are. I just got permission from Ozpin to slot us in. He's pulling a favour right this moment." Coco grinned and planted her hands on her hips. "Say hello to Adel Studios - promoting the latest fashions on Beacon's very own Team RWBY!"

"You're dead to me, Blake. Dead!" Ruby cried out weakly.

Yang sighed. Weiss placed both hands over her face. Blake, finally realising Ruby's fears, could only wince.

"Oh. Oops?"

* * *

**That fashion scene was one of those things that's super easy to do in a screen show but super hard in text. In a show I could literally just have Lisa end one scene and the next start with Jaune and the White Fang bursting slow motion into a fashion show, all garishly dressed and acting stupidly, popping collars, dancing provocatively, and striking crazy poses.**

**In text, I had to spend time writing each individual character's outfit out, which stretched the scene on and lessened the punchiness of it. **

**I also am never one to suggest OST or music to scenes in my works (I find it a little immersion breaking when people do) but I was definitely imagining the "ayayayaya" music from Jojo's bizarre adventure for that moment (Pillar men, I think). I even tried to dress Sun, Yuma and Bane like it, but obviously couldn't use words like "Egyptian themed" because Egypt shouldn't exist in Remnant. **

**And yes, it's a fashion off. Team RWBY vs White Fang. Who will be the Kings or Queens of the catwalk? Faunus vs Huntsmen on the only stage that matters.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 21****st**** July**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	19. Chapter 19

**Ignore the troll as usual**

**And yes, I had a dictionary open to the letter "v" for this chapter. On a side note, I have visited a few fashion shows in my career, and also been invited backstage to interview models and such, so while scenes in this chapter may not be representative the industry over, they're definitely not inaccurate either.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 19**

* * *

"Vivian, is it?"

Jaune turned with a fake smile on his face to find two garishly dressed women approaching him with brightly painted eyes. He supposed it was a little hypocritical to call them garish when he looked like a rejected pimp had crashed into an opera accessories store and come out the worse for it. In fact, most of the fashion designers in attendance were, how should he say, _uniquely attired_.

Long fluffy gowns, puffy sleeves wide enough to take up two lanes of traffic and even one person who'd come in an outfit literally gender split down the middle. The left side of him wore a suit while the right wore a black ball gown. The clothing was about as functional as a razor wire pacifier and looked like they'd been designed by children with ADHD.

Or, as was more likely, he just didn't understand. It was _Fashion_. Not fashion. In the same way a banana duct-taped to a wall was apparently _Art_ where Jaune would have called it food on a wall.

It was eccentric.

And thus, he had to be eccentric. If he wanted to stand out and draw the attention of Rosemary and Thyme, he had to be bold and striking. Not necessarily successful at it, but at least demanding of attention enough that they were interested. In fact since the goal was to make them poach one of his models away it might even work better if he _did _come across as a bit of an idiot. Not _that_ was an area in which he excelled.

Turning to face the two women, each easily as old as his mother, Jaune swept an arm low in what might generously have been called a stage bow.

"Verily does Vivian Von Valk Volkvan stand before you. And I ask, what virtue has brought two vivid and vivacious women to vie for my attention? That I might vicariously gaze in awe and veracious wonder at such vaunted beauty fills the vast depths of my heart with joy"

Trifa looked at him like he'd gone insane.

"Oh my!" one of the ladies tittered and held out a hand. "You certainly have a way with words, Vivian."

Taking the hand he kissed the knuckles, aware of how the woman swooned dramatically. "Verbose and vociferous, it has been said, but if Vivian might vent in moments of verbiage, know it is when virtue vies for his vehement attention."

"Vivian!" the woman fanned herself fiercely. "Please, I'm an old maid." Giggling, she clung to her friend. "I'm Allison and this is Annabelle."

"Pleased to meet you," the other woman said with a more professional tone. "We're co-founders of Annabelle and Allison. You've probably heard of us."

A&A? It sounded familiar. Vaguely so. Given the setting, it had to be a fashion brand.

"Veritable veterans in this most vainglorious of industries."

"Yes. We've been in business for quite a while. We're here today to scout some of the latest designers for our brand."

"I'm sure we'll look forward to seeing your offerings, Vivian," Allison tittered. "You've already struck such a powerful chord. Then again, there are plenty of veterans here from the design and modelling world themselves. You must be nervous."

"I must most vehemently disagree," Jaune said loudly, aware of the attention aimed his way. Now or never. He eyed the other competitors dismissively. "To see such vamped-up vagabonds strut about and vulgarise the most venerated of industries vexes me. That a competition where varied and vaunted would vie for opportunity to vocalise their vision, to verify, validate and valorously vow to scintillate the virtuous, be reduced to a veneer of vainglory, of voluminous and vacuous vermin vying for veritable scraps of vacant glory and thinly veiled effort, vulgarly victimising those who would vindicate us all."

Jaune sighed loudly, granting the now silent hall a moment to ponder.

"My most vehement apologies, dear Allison." He raised her hand to his lips again. "To see what our world has become vexes me so. Forgive this verbose vomit of vitriol. Know only that Vivian comes not to vie for vainglory but for one purpose." His voice rose. "To vanquish vice and vicious vermin and give voice to those who are victimised!"

Releasing her, looking past her shocked and startled face, he eyed the rest of his competition. Rosemary and Thyme would be among them, and certainly now, they couldn't have failed to notice him.

"That is all."

Jaune and Trifa stepped away, leaving stunned silence in their wake. Cameras panned to follow them to the edge of the room, but none dared approach now. The message had been sent. War declared. In a fashion.

"Ugh," he groaned quietly. "I'm making puns in my own head."

"At least they're not alliterations," Trifa grumbled back. "What was all that? Do you even understand half the things you said?"

"Vaguely." Trifa raised a fist threateningly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to do it there. That one was an accident. I mean, what I said was technically all the truth. We're here for the victims, the silenced and the browbeaten, to give them voice."

"I guess we are." Trifa eyed him sharply. "Don't think that's permission to wax like this ever again. I refuse to be seen dating someone who speaks in third person or uses constant alliteration. Those are my two rules."

Jaune chuckled. "I'd need a dictionary to do it anyway. It worked, though. All eyes are on us."

/-/

"Oh! Oh! I've got goose bumps!"

Blake glowered at Coco as she shivered in the seat of their rented limousine. Rented by Ozpin and not by Weiss. It would, he claimed, sell the image Coco and Team RWBY were looking for. On the back of the divider between the driver and the passengers, a large TV showed the fashion show and the startling speech that had just captured the moment.

"It was just words," Blake said. "Words are cheap."

"Words have power!" Coco fired back excitedly. "Words can start or end wars, save or doom people, mislead or validate. They can send a man to jail for life or exonerate him. Words might be cheap, girl, but only when you let your words have no value. Those that stick to what they say, those that follow through on their threats. Well, those words aren't cheap at all. They're expensive. And powerful."

Irritation would have had her snapping back if not for the fact they were pulling into the driveway of the stately home the show was being hosted at. Coco was always going on about this guy – practically deepthroating him at times. Yang patted her shoulder supportively, but even she didn't understand why all this playing around made her so mad.

_He just ranted with a load of words beginning with V. Adam's speeches were more powerful. He didn't waste his time with stunts like this either. _

"What do you think he's doing there?" Ruby asked Coco.

"I think he's doing what he said – trying to draw attention to a failing industry that's started to focus more on profit than actually doing what it's supposed to do. Though given it's the White Fang, I'd also guess exploitative labour." Coco bent over the label of her jumper for them to see. "See this? It's a Fair Labour logo. Means this was made by well-paid workers. Most of the big fashion brands look to have those now, but that's big manufacturers. Wouldn't surprise me if these designers would bend the rules on their end and use cheap labour."

"That's not unique to fashion," Blake pointed out.

"It's not. That kind of thing happens all over the place, but if he can prove it here, he's doing so to every major fashion brand in the world. They're all either attending or watching this looking for the next big label. Doing well at a show like this can make your label. Or, if a little scandal popped up, kill it stone dead."

"Makes you wonder why no one tries that for the SDC." Yang said. "No offence, Weiss."

"Quite a bit taken – and the SDC doesn't have any real competition. We're not a monopoly but it's close enough that even if we got into trouble, people can't just stop using us. There aren't enough dust manufacturers without us to keep the four Kingdoms running."

That was something the White Fang were intimately aware of, especially during their peaceful years where the best arguments and proof they could legally give all went ignored in Atlas because, as Weiss said, the SDC was too important to let fail. The Kingdoms needed the SDC, and so it could get away with pretty much anything it wanted.

"We're here." Coco opened the door and ushered them out. "Right. Remember the plan. You four are models. You're going into the modelling area to look around and figure out who the White Fang plants are. Don't engage them. Looking at you, Blake. They're here peacefully and that means we have to be too. You can finish a fight if they start one, but not before."

"What do we do if we find them all?" Yang asked.

"Try and figure out what they're looking for?" Ruby guessed. "If we can do their work before they can, it shows Beacon is good."

"Bingo. Oh, I am _so proud_ of you." Coco gushed and held onto Ruby's head, all but smothering her. "My little Rubaby is growing up."

"Oi!" Yang grabbed Ruby's other arm. "That's _my_ Rubaby."

Coco tugged back. "Can't we share?"

"No. I raised her. She's mine."

"I'm… ah… no one's… gr… baby!" Ruby managed to break free and hide behind Weiss. "Can we go in and get this over already? We'll keep an eye on Blake. She won't start anything. I'm more worried about what m more worried about what you're going to do."

"Me?" Coco touched her chest. "My, how offensive. I'm not going to say anything. If I did, I'd only be giving a speech second to him. Makes me look like I'm playing catch up. No, girl. I intend to let my fashion do the talking for me. We're winning this thing!"

"You mean we're stopping the White Fang," Blake prodded angrily.

"Yeah, sure. That too."

/-/

For Sun, strutting around topless wasn't exactly a new experience. Other people being topless on the other hand was. Apparently, a lot of models didn't think much of nudity. It was probably because they were so often jumping in and out of different outfits, but whatever the case the main area of the backstage dressing rooms featured women walking around topless and men climbing in and out of trousers without a care for modesty. It had been a shock at first but, well, once he noticed how bored everyone else was about it, he just sort of fit in.

He was topless, so what big a deal was it if a woman walked by topless?

Honestly, it was more a shame to be in such a situation and feel so unexcited by it all. Luckily, they'd also been granted their own private changing rooms. One for each studio, mostly so they could keep their designs secret and avoid any claims of industrial sabotage. Apparently, that was a big deal in the fashion world. Ilia was busy hiding in there currently. She and Yuma weren't quite as unaffected by the nudity as he and Bane were. Bane didn't seem to care at all.

_We're not going to find the people in trouble by hiding away because we're embarrassed,_ he thought. Tugging a loose shirt on, he walked among the models, maintaining his eyes above neck height as a gentleman should.

Neptune would have fainted by now.

There weren't many faunus among the models, he noticed. Only about three in total. Since that was the calling card of Subtle Spice, he gravitated over to one of them – a brunette faunus with long ears he at first thought might have been rabbit in nature, but soon realised were too angular and thick. A donkey faunus. The girl was pretty despite the unflattering animal type. Big brown eyes and smooth, unblemished skin. Thankfully, she was also dressed in a loose tee-shirt and some slacks.

"Hey there." Sun appeared in her mirror as she trimmed the fur of her ears. The woman blinked back at his reflection, clearly startled. "Didn't think I'd see more faunus here." He let his tail show in the mirror for her. "Nice to see more getting into the industry."

"Oh. Um. Yes." Stuttering at first, she soon smiled prettily and turned in her seat. He had the feeling she'd been more startled than shy about talking to him. The impression was reinforced when she stuck a hand out. "Nice to meet you. I'm Swan. I know it doesn't fit the ears. Blame my parents."

"Sun." He shook her hand, impressed with the firm grip. "And I'm not related to the sun either."

"Ha ha. I wouldn't know with that hair. And that skin." Her eyes dipped to his chest and she said, "Let me guess. Vacuo?"

"Born and raised. Been in Mistral recently, though. You look like a bit of a Mistral girl yourself. Got that exotic flair."

"I am!" Swan's smile faltered a little. "There weren't many opportunities in the modelling world back home, though. I had to come to Vale to get a chance. You know how it is." Her fingers tugged one ear down, flicking through her shortened fur. "Animal fur on the clothing, having to make holes for ears or tails." Her eyes followed his as it flicked back and forth. "Just getting someone to look at you when you're sporting animal parts is a nightmare."

"Tell me about it." He might have been lying about being a model, but it wasn't like he hadn't experienced his fair share of it. "At least yours are high up. I've had people step on my tail and call it my fault. And I have to cut holes in my own jeans."

"Hmm. There are some brands that fit faunus…"

"But they're so expensive," they finished as one. Sun laughed along with her. "Yeah, I know what you mean. How is having _less material_ more expensive? And don't get me started on those `tail flaps` they've been trying to push. I don't need a dog flap on my ass. It as bad for ears?"

"Hats are a nightmare," she said. "And low hanging doorways."

"Well you _are_ pretty tall," he pointed out. Swan was a good five foot ten or so, easily one of the tallest women he'd seen.

"It's what the brands like. Tall girls mean more verticality to work with. Whatever that means. I guess it just makes me look stick thin." Her fingers brushed over her stomach which was thin, but not the anorexic kind he'd seen on some people. Still, with how tall she was it made her look much thinner by contrast.

"What's it like over here?" he asked, trying to sound casual. "You're with Subtle Spices, right? I hear they do a lot of good things with faunus."

"A-Ah. Yeah." It was quick but he caught it. The flash of something in her eyes before she recovered. "It's a job, you know? They do plenty of stuff around faunus and it's nice to get a chance to show off on the catwalk. Inspiring to see faunus finally up there and know you're a part of it. Hopefully in a few more years it'll be a more common thing."

"Hoping so," he said honestly. "They good to work for? I've been considering a change…"

"They pay on time. About the best you can ask for. I'm sorry, Sun, but I need to get ready for the show." Smiling apologetically, she said. "Later…?"

"Yeah, sure. Hit me up if you want to talk." Best to let her go for now. He didn't want to push, and she obviously didn't want to talk about it. "I'll be rooting for you out there. Knock 'em dead."

Her answering smile was radiant. "You too, Sun! Good luck."

Sun made his way back to the Ivory Tooth private area, cracking the door open and slipping inside. Ilia and Yuma tensed and then relaxed on seeing him, though Ilia looked a little flushed for some reason. He really didn't see why. Surely seeing him and Yuma getting changed meant absolutely nothing to her, and it wasn't like they didn't have individual cubicles.

"Is Bane still out there?"

"Last I saw, being crooned over by about six women," Sun said. "Lucky guy."

"Lucky he isn't wearing leather pants," Yuma groaned. "Do you know how weird this is? I creak when I move. You can see your reflection in my ass." He turned, looking back over and between his wings. His leather pants certainly were very tight. And shiny. "At least you're wearing a full outfit, Ilia."

"It's feathers. It's all feathers."

"So? It covers you."

Ilia squirmed some more. "It… it itches…"

"Oh." Sun winced, imagining for a second how hundreds of feathers tickling your body might actually feel. It probably depended on which end was doing the tickling too. "Wow. You think what models have to wear is always this uncomfortable?"

"You saw that meat suit, didn't you?"

"I heard about it," he said. "Didn't see it. As horrible as it sounds?"

"Let's just say she wouldn't have survived a walk through a dog park." Yuma sighed. "I think it really is like this. I mean, I watched a fashion channel once. Ex-girlfriend," he explained when Ilia and Sun sent him shocked expressions.

Ilia's didn't dissipate upon the explanation. "Someone dated you!?"

"Funny, Ilia. Funny. At least I didn't ask my ex to dress up as another-"

"Does _everyone_ know that story!?" Ilia shrieked. "Once! It happened once!"

"Everyone knows it." Yuma ignored her whimper. "Anyway, I remember watching it and… well, let's just say what they wear on the catwalk isn't always what you see on the shelf. Every now and then you'd get normal clothes, but you also get weird stuff. I remember seeing one woman wearing what I swear was just a plastic shopping bag. I could see her underwear through it – and only the bottom half. Her breasts were just hanging there, clear as the eye can see."

"You sure this wasn't a different kind of channel?" Sun asked.

"Dude. It was a real fashion show. I swear. It's weird!"

"Must be." Sun looked back. "I spoke to someone from Subtle Spice. Nice girl – real friendly. Just like Lisa said too, she's all for helping more faunus get on the catwalk and the like. Couldn't find work in Mistral. Turns out part of that is because of the fur on the clothing."

"Makes sense," Ilia said. "I bet it's a detractor too. Models tend to be kind of plain too. Not much make-up or crazy hairstyles. It's because the designers want the attention to be on the clothes and not the model."

"You thinking faunus are turned away because ears, tails and horns draw attention?"

"Might be."

Sun hummed. It was a possible explanation. "Anyway, she was chatty right up until I started asking about Subtle Spices. Didn't have anything bad to say about them, but when I started to act interested in working for them, she clammed up real quick. Said she'd talk to me later. After the show."

"Sounds like she was trying to warn you off," Ilia said. "Maybe she wants to meet where her employers can't hear her to tell you to find work elsewhere."

That was the impression he'd got. Swan hadn't really said anything bad about them, but she couldn't right now. Inviting him to talk later was a chance to speak more candidly and cutting off any topic about him joining might have been the same. It wasn't proof – at least not the kind Lisa could act on – but it was a hint that there was more going on than met the eye.

"Any idea on how to get her to open up?" he asked Ilia. "Other than, you know, lying to her face."

"Wear her out?"

Sun frowned. "Ilia…"

"Not like that, idiot! I mean the show." Ilia waved toward the door. "Bright lights, constant outfit changes and having to go in and out, in and out. Try and talk to her again during a break period. See if she lets something slip when she's a little tired."

Hm. That didn't sound like a bad idea.

"_We have a problem."_ Deery's voice came through their hidden earpieces. Everyone paused to listen. _"I just saw Beacon arrive on the scene."_

Yuma swore and got to his feet. "How many of them?"

"_Five, and they're not going in armed. They… I think they signed up to compete."_

Beacon was competing in the fashion show. The `why` hung in the air and no one had an answer, least of all Sun. He did eye the door to the backstage area nervously, though. Going out there now might be a risky proposition.

"Is… Is Blake there…?" Ilia asked nervously.

"_The one you're crushing on? Yep. Talk about a grumpy cat."_

"Blake is here. Blake is here." Ilia took in long gulps of air. "I can't go out there. What if she finds me? What if she corners me? What if – What if she's getting changed? What if she's topless out there right now?"

Yuma sweat dropped. "You want me to check?"

"No! No one is allowed that honour!"

"You have problems, Ilia."

"I know! I'm on the White Fang and she's a traitor – it's a classical forbidden romance. And I'm allied with the guy who killed her ex-boyfriend. Do you think she'll hold that against me?"

"Okay, first of all that's not the problems I was talking about. And secondly, you don't need to worry about the Adam angle," Yuma laughed. "Trust me, my exes would call you best friend if you killed me."

"That isn't something to boast about!"

"Sure it is. It means they want me so bad that if they can't have me, they'd rather no one does. Right?" Yuma looked to Sun for backup. "That's what it means, right? Besides, it's Adam! Every day was a question of who would want to kill him. I'm surprised he wasn't hit by a meteorite just so some cosmic entity could claim dibs. The path is open. Go get some pussy."

"Yuma!"

"I meant cat faunus. Sheesh, Ilia. Dirty mind much?"

/-/

Jaune and Trifa also heard the communications from Deery and Perry. Tukson tapped his arm from behind and nodded to the side, fitting the bodyguard role well. A young woman had just entered the manor, only a little older than him. Brown hair, black shades and a smile so confident he wouldn't have been surprised if she could take everyone in the room.

"Huntress," Trifa whispered.

"I see her. I think we've seen her before when we bust Tanner."

"She was leading that team of huntresses. You think she's – damn it. She's seen us. Don't run," she hissed, grabbing his arm. "If she does anything here, she's putting everyone in danger. We have every right to be here."

"Trifa, we have _no right_ to be here."

"Arguably, I mean. Too late."

"Well, well, well." The brunette strolled up to them, paused and pushed her shades down to stare at him with bright brown eyes. Her lips curled up into a sly smile. "If it isn't Vivian Von Jaune Arc-van." Offering her hand, she teased. "Do I get a kiss?"

Plastering on a smile he didn't feel, he took her fingers and ghosted his lips over her knuckles.

"A pleasure, huntress."

"Coco. Call me Coco. And no alliteration for me? I'm hurt."

"I did not wish to vex a versed and valiant defender of our virtuous Kingdom."

Trifa groaned loudly.

Coco's grin only grew. "A connoisseur of the covert should be more conscientious. Lest a capricious lady convince herself she isn't up to the calibre of your compliments." Stepping into his space, her cheeky smile stretched wider still. "Comprehend me, criminal?"

"Trifa thinks this tandem tautology talking is tacky." the spider faunus grumbled.

"No appreciation for the classics," Coco bemoaned. Her hand took his, drawing him away from Trifa. "Dance with me."

"What? There's no dance floor. Or music!"

"I move to my own rhythm. Come on, make a scene with me." Yanking him forward, she capitalised – damn it, he wasn't doing it on purpose – and pulled his left arm around her waist. By then it was too late to pass it off as an accident without looking the fool, so he stepped into the dance, holding her right hand in his, their legs moving together as several people began to clap excitedly.

"Is this where you arrest me?" he asked nervously.

"Only if you try and cop a feel. We're playing nice today – so long as you do." Coco twirled him around, clearly leading the dance as he struggled to keep up. "I wasn't originally planning to confront you, but I decided the direct approach might work better than subtle hints. I'm of the opinion that opponents don't have to be enemies. What do you think?"

"I agree. I don't have any problems with Beacon."

"Hmm. Beacon has problem with you, but only when you're doing your `more illegal business` as it were. Let's drop the charades," she said quietly. "I'll do you the respect of saying we're not here to start any fights. Will you return that?"

"We're investigating Subtle Spices modelling." He knew Lisa was listening in and could just imagine her groaning at his response. Coco looked surprised at the honesty too, which was a good thing. It meant she wasn't seeing him as a terrorist. Maybe he could prove it to her, and through her, Beacon and the wider authorities. It couldn't hurt to try. If it kept Beacon from attacking him, it'd do the opposite of hurt. "We've reason to believe they're taking advantage of faunus trying to get into fashion. Impossible contracts and the like."

"Huh. Is that so?" Coco and he parted, posed and then came back together to continue moving. "You're a good dancer by the way. I'm surprised a terrorist would know how."

"Seven sisters." They already knew who his family was. "There's a lot of hobbies split between them. Sable was into dancing at one point and needed a male partner. It was my dad when he was around and me when he wasn't."

"A master of many talents?"

"If you count talents as dancing, knitting, cooking, writing and paintball, then yes – and if you count `mastery` as having the vaguest idea of how to do them."

"Ha! I wonder what the world would think of the famous leader of the White Fang in an apron." Probably the same they'd think seeing the seven-foot mass of muscle that was Banesaw wearing one, and that was a daily occurrence. "Still, I appreciate the candid confession." Her wink earned a roll of his eyes. "I'm happy to put this on for the sake of the game, but if you actually try to hurt those girls I'm looking after, well, let's just say Ozpin didn't put me in this spot _just_ because I know how to gab."

This was a huntress from the upper years of Beacon. He knew well what that meant. "We'll only fight in self-defence. As long as they don't attack us first, we have no problem. You do good work," he said. "I wanted to be a huntsman myself."

"Really? Could have been fun. What happened?"

"I ran into Adam Taurus."

"He recruited you into the White Fang, huh?"

"In a manner of speaking…" Holding her close, they slowed down until they were swaying toward the end of an imaginary song. It gave him a chance to whisper in her ear. "I don't want to be a terrorist. I'm not trying to hurt anyone."

Coco's hands came up over his shoulders almost romantically. "I want to believe that. Maybe I do. All I'll say is actions speak louder than words. You're doing well – I have a teammate who's a faunus and even if she won't admit it, I'm glad to see the White Fang not being monsters for a change."

"I'm trying my best to change things."

"Yeah? I won't say it's not a good look. Personally, I think it might be working. Might. Part of me is hoping you prove me right, but until then, we're still opponents. Like I said, though. That doesn't have to mean we're enemies. I can fight against someone I don't hate. This doesn't have to be personal."

"I don't hate you," he said honestly. "I don't hate Beacon and I won't harm your team."

"Thanks." Impishly, she kissed his cheek. Right next to his lips. It was so close in fact that he heard the startled gasps and awe from those around them, which meant she'd almost certainly planned it to look that way. He stood frozen until she drew back. "You're not the only one who can make a scene to draw attention by the way. Let's see how your recruitment goes when faunus think you're making out with a human."

"W-What…?"

"If you're as keen on redeeming them as you say you are, it shouldn't be a problem. Fits the image of the human-friendly White Fang." She patted his cheek and laughed. "And I'll pay you back with a little advice. From one PR specialist to another. Something you've probably missed that ought to help you out if you're honest with your intentions."

"Um." Jaune found his words with a stammer and a blush. "Sure. I won't say no…"

"Take a look at the masks you're making your people wear. There's a reason the White Fang chose _Grimm_ masks when they turned to violence." Winking, she drew away. "It doesn't fit the image you're going for now."

With those parting words, Coco Adel pulled out his hands and walked away, hips swaying.

"We're gonna win this thing, by the way." Her voice wasn't just addressing him, but everyone in the room. "Vivian may have a more verbose set of verbs than me, so I'll say it loud and clear. Your fashion is drab, and your ideas are old. This is a two-horse race, and sad to say, the rest of you losers aren't up to speed." Laughing, she flicked her hand in the air and walked away. "Try not to slow us down."

In the corner of the room, a pair of twins scowled and made their way to the changing rooms.

* * *

**Coco going on the assault. The twins aren't the Malachites by the way. Just to make that clear. It's the Rosemary and Thyme twins. Yes, Jaune with the V is a play on V for Vendetta. Obviously obvious but played for parody.**

* * *

**Random Fashion Show Story - very skippable and not important for fic at all**

* * *

**I remember when I was interviewing at a fashion show and was backstage and everyone was just getting dressed in the same room. Men and women topless and not caring about it. I had to interview a woman having her makeup put on who was literally topless in front of my 18-year-old self. It was surprisingly easy to get used to once the shock wore off. Not even all that exciting since everyone just acted like it was normal and I started to as well. **

**Tell you what, though, she was snotty as hell. Like, so hard to talk to. This was over 14 years ago now, but I remember asking the usual questions about how she got into modelling, etc, and the answers were so fucking insipid. Stuff like "I knew from a young age I was more beautiful than everyone else". So arrogant. I did meet a few others who were super nice, but she was the big deal at the time because she won the "Miss Region" aware for the area the magazine I was working in was hosted. The runners-up were so nice and friendly and interesting, while the winner, ugh, just awful to talk to. **

**The shocking thing to me was that I didn't even think she was attractive. Bleached blonde hair, heavy make-up and stuff. I later got invited to judge one ( a few years later when I was an Editor and thus apparently had an opinion considered worthy of judging women for some reason – not even a women's magazine I was working for ) and found out the reason why, or at least what I assume to be why. The judges were councillors, business owners or other "semi-famous but not really" people from the region, and they were mostly men of age thirty and above.**

**I remember in that event I voted for the girl I thought was prettiest and who had the best personality based on those stupid questions, but some of the others were nervous about voting for her because she "looked young". Even though she was 18. They felt like by voting for her, they'd be called into question somehow. Weird since 18 is legal here too. Anyway, they voted for a girl who just looked older. She wasn't – they were all 18 – but she **_**looked**_** about twenty-five with all her make-up, etc. They voted for her and she won even though they all admitted the other girl was more deserving, just because they felt they'd be seen as weird if they chose someone who "looked young".**

**Kind of a shame really. I did tell the girl after as I felt bad for her and wanted her to know why she lost. Don't know if it helped or not. Not much I could do. **

**I've been asked to judge weird stuff. I've even been an official judge at the Nantwich Cheese Show once. That's a bigger deal in the food and drink industry than it sounds! I've also judged children's plays and theatre for some schools. Being an Editor of a local magazine sometimes involves strange stuff like that. The Cheese Show was for being Editor of an International food and drink magazine.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 4****th**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	20. Chapter 20

**Ignore the troll spamming guest reviews as usual**

**Choppy chapter today as there needs to be a lot of mini-scenes and PoV changes**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 20**

* * *

The various designers were called to attend backstage in their private booths, and it was there that Sun filled him and the others in on his brief interaction with the Subtle Spices model. The proof wasn't definitive of yet, but Lisa hadn't led them wrong so far.

"We've got bigger problems though," Yuma said. "Beacon are here."

"He knows." Trifa eyed Jaune evilly. "Since he made out with one of them."

"Dude…"

"I know." Trifa huffed. "The enemy, right there in front-"

"Dude. High five!"

Trifa made choking motions with her hands.

"It wasn't Blake, was it?" Ilia asked insistently.

Jaune replied in the negative since Trifa was too busy throttling Yuma and he was sure Adam would rant and rage in his head if he claimed it was. Plus, he didn't want to have Ilia jealous at him as well. "Nah. It was the brunette. Coco. And it wasn't a real kiss. She staged it."

"Coco? The one with the leather pants?"

"The brunette."

Ilia looked none the wiser.

Jaune sighed. "The one with the leather pants."

"Ohhh." Ilia gave a thumbs up. "Nice."

Down Ilia. Down. Shaking his head, Jaune closed the door behind him and shied away from Trifa. She hadn't been in a good mood since his dance with Coco, which he had a feeling was less to do with any real jealousy and more the fact that she now had to act the part of a woman who was either a) too dumb to realise her boyfriend just cheated on her or b) was a gold digger who didn't care and was only after Vivian's money. Given that she was a spider faunus and the references some could make to black widows, he didn't want to consider the latter.

"The job is still the same," Tukson said. "Impress the judges and impress Subtle Spices."

"Yes. We need one of their contracts and the best way to get it will be to have one of you hired." He looked to Bane, Yuma, Sun and Ilia. "That means we need the four of you to kick butt out there. Now, I won't lie to you. It'll be hard."

"Oh. Oh." Sun grinned. "Inspiring speech."

"Yes." Jaune faced them all. "Your competition is better than you, more experienced than you, has actual fashion designers working on their outfits and knows exactly what to do to make this work, while you're all complete amateurs with no knowledge of what a strut is, being dressed by a man who thinks hoodies and ripped jeans are cool."

Sun's smile faltered. "Inspiration feels less comforting than I thought it would."

"-but I believe in you," Jaune said. "And I know you'll go out there and kick everyone's asses. You'll show them just what you're made of."

"And how will we do that?" Ilia asked.

"I have faith in you, Ilia," Jaune said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "To discover the answer to that mystery yourself."

Her eyes were flat. "You have no idea, do you?"

"I'm delegating the idea making process to you."

"You're dodging responsibility."

"No, Ilia. I'm empowering you to make your own choices. Besides, your job is to walk in a straight line. How hard can it be?"

"_Harder than you're making it sound,"_ Deery warned through his earpiece. _"I've been doing some reading up on this show and it's ruthless. There's been rumours of sabotage in the past, all unsubstantiated but the accusations are still there. I'm looking through videos of the catwalk now."_

"Good idea. Anything I can use?"

"_It's not just walking. It's… I guess you'd call it freestyle?"_ Deery sounded uncertain. _"I'm sending a clip to your scroll. Take a look."_

The others crowded around as Jaune drew it out and opened the clip. On it, a model came out strutting up the stage, pausing at the end to pose with one knee bent. She turned both ways, pirouetted and then walked back. It looked fairly standard, but it was the next that was different.

A guy this time, but he came rushing out onto the catwalk with a flaming brand in hand and an outfit that `claimed` to be inspired by Menagerie, if Menagerie was some tribal nation set back some thousand years or so. He danced and jumped around the stage swinging his torch like a caveman and dressed in brown leather. The burning brand bathed his skin orange as he posed like he was ready to wrestle a Goliath at the end of the catwalk, then hopped and danced back.

The third consisted of two women dancing together, swaying in and out of one another's reach in what looked to be two halves of a single outfit connected by gossamer threads of silk. When they stepped apart, they were as good as half naked, while together they formed a single outfit with two heads.

"I'm confused," Yuma summarised. "Vaguely aroused, but mostly just confused."

"We're all confused," Jaune said, intentionally ignoring the other part. "But I think what Deery is saying is that walking up there isn't going to cut it. It's half fashion and half spectacle…?"

"_That's what the reviews of the show say. The critics are throwing words like passion, story and bravery around. It's like these models are fighting Grimm or something. Courageous colours and dashing patterns. Primal energy and reckless power. A cry of victory set in silk. A song of needle and thread. How pretentious is this?"_

"Maximum pretentiousness," Ilia said.

"Which means we'll need to do the same if we want to stand out," Trifa echoed.

"No." Jaune's eyes narrowed. "No. We need to go deeper…"

/-/

Ruby was a huntress. Ruby had faced death. Ruby had fought monsters. Ruby was busy hyperventilating and doing her best to hide under her chair, all the while fighting off Coco's attempts to drag her out.

"I can't do this! I can't do this!"

"You can and you have to."

"No! You can't make me!"

"First of all, I can," Coco said. "But secondly, I'm not doing this to be mean. You guys set yourself up for this PR thing. That means you need to get used to being the centre of attention. Now stop hiding under that chair before I decide to make it part of your outfit."

"Why are you designing out outfits again?" Yang asked. "I look like an idiot."

"You look awesome."

"Awesome, huh?" Yang looked down at the ridiculous mishmash of colours and fabrics draped over her. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing this out to town."

"Obviously. Shows like this aren't to highlight mainstream fashion. They're to share ideas. Extremes. Maybe, like, a tenth of the stuff you see here will go out to the public, but companies will be taking _ideas_ from everything. Little bit of a sleeve here, a dress there, the colour from that. It's about impressing, and you're not going to impress looking like any other girl on the street."

"I don't see why we're encouraging and not arresting them!" Blake snapped.

"Because they haven't done anything wrong yet." Coco rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to say this?"

"They killed Adam!"

"In the past. I'm talking about the now. Why are you not in your dress?"

Blake crossed her arms. "I'm not playing this stupid game."

"Stupid? Blake, this is a mission."

"It's a waste of time. They're terrorists, killers and thieves. We shouldn't be competing with them in some asinine fashion contest. We're huntresses!"

Coco sighed and stood, letting go of Ruby and holding her arms out. "Alright. You win."

Blake blinked owlishly. "I do…?"

"Sure. We'll not do this." The decision had Yang and Ruby relaxing as well. "Course, that means the White Fang wins too." That changed their tune. All three went rigid. "Because like it or not – call it childish or not – they're here and they're competing, which means they have an interest in winning. So sure, you lot have decided this is a waste of time. Cool. Guess that means there's no one to stop whatever dastardly plan the White Fang have. Good job, Team RWBY. I bet Ozpin and the city will be real impressed you let your egos dictate which jobs you take and which you don't."

"That's not… I mean…" Yang trailed off.

"She's trying to trick us," Blake said.

"Am I? The White Fang _are_ here. You know that. Jaune Arc is here and competing. You really think the best way to stop them is to totally let them get away with whatever they want to do? You really think that's the way to beat them, Blake?"

"…"

"Or," Coco said, "Do you want to fight them wherever they come."

"W-Well yes, of course."

"On the streets."

"Yes."

"In the forests."

"I said yes."

"On the catwalks."

"…"

"On the catwalks?" Coco asked again, grinning smugly. "Because, you know, it's still a battle. Are you going to stand up for justice and beat them back, or is it time for Blake Belladonna to cower away and let the White Fang claim victory?"

"I know what you're doing," Blake said. "I know you're trying to trick me."

"No, babe. Tricking you would mean lying to you." Coco waved her hand dismissively. "I'm just laying it out like it is. Binary. You want to stop them at every point, you can't say that but back out now because you feel embarrassed. All or nothing. Anything else makes you a hypocrite."

Blake drew and released a long breath. "Fine. I'll do it."

"And just like that," Coco said with a wild grin. "We have ourselves a good old-fashioned catwalk-off."

"I can't do this!" Ruby wailed.

"How about you?" Coco asked Weiss. "You're being fairly quiet about all this."

Dressed in a loose white gown with blue sequins, the heiress shrugged one bare shoulder artfully. "I was trained by a model on how to move when I was younger. Father deemed it necessary if I was to be seen at public events. Honestly, aside from being embarrassing, I don't have a problem with any of this. My biggest concern is whether we'll be able to stand out. Everyone here is the cream of the crop. These are the _best_ models in the industry wearing the best fashions."

"Yeah. It's not going to be easy. We'll stick with Weiss for now," she decided. "You three watch how she does it and take notes. We'll use the first half of the show to learn and the second to blow them out the water."

Weiss sighed but did nod, moving toward the doorway. "If this is what we have to do."

"It is. And Ruby, come on, get out from under that chair!"

"You can't make me!"

/-/

"_-something red and draping."_ Perry read to Jaune as he hovered over various materials. _"Red on black. Uh. Some grey if you need it – wait, no. Charcoal."_

Jaune paused. "The colour or the material…?"

"_The colour, obviously."_

"Is it…?"

There was quiet from Perry as he quickly read through the article. Considering how weird some of the fashion world was, it really could have been either. Having next to no experience in fashion himself, he'd defaulted to having Perry and Deery act as his wingmen and feed ideas from outside.

It wasn't working well.

"We're getting annihilated out there!" Yuma said, storming back in.

"The other studios aren't messing around," Ilia groaned. "I feel so stupid walking out there. Even when we try to copy the past routines Deery finds, we're looking like idiots."

They weren't winning this. Not by a long shot. It wasn't just his poor fashion sense causing problems. The models they had just weren't knowledgeable. They might have been exceptionally fit, Sun in particular putting every guy here to shame, but they didn't know how to _move_.

"They're calling intermission," Sun said with obvious relief. "We need to turn this around."

"I know." Jaune groaned. "But how? We just don't know how this all works."

"Then do something new."

"Easier said than done, Sun!" he snapped. "How about some ideas?"

"Calm down." Trifa pushed his shoulders down and rubbed them gently. "Calm down, boss. Sun isn't wrong, even if it's not the most helpful of comments. We can't win this if we're trying to beat them at their own game. We just don't know what we're doing."

"It's not like we have much time to pick this up."

"Then think outside the box!" Ilia argued. In her anger, the colour of her skin flushed red – a bright and vivid crimson that perfectly matched the red fabric he was holding.

Something red.

"W-W-Wait, wait, wait!" Jaune waved his hands at her. Her skin turned back to its normal colour, but he kept going. "No, no. Back to red. Turn your skin back!"

"Change my colour…?" Ilia concentrated and red crept across her face again. "You mean like this?"

Perfect! Maybe. He wasn't sure at all, but it was worth a shot. With Perry yammering in his ear, he rushed over and picked out an outfit, intentionally choosing something that would work with red, but not her normal skin tone. He bundled it into Ilia's arms and pushed her toward the tiny changing room.

When she came out, she looked confused and a little unsure. "I don't know. This doesn't really go with my tone, does it?"

"Then change it. Be red."

Ilia blinked. "You mean use my chameleon traits in the show?"

"Yes!"

"Is that allowed?"

"Ye- actually, I don't know." He pondered asking. "We'll find out. Go out normal and change your skin colour halfway down the catwalk. We'll do it as a test and see what they think. We're losing anyway if we don't."

"I guess I can try it…"

Ilia stepped out the changing rooms and towards the curtains once the intermission ended. The White Fang watched the small TV screen showing the catwalk with bated breath. If this didn't work, there wasn't much else they could do other than hope Subtle Spices thought they were so _bad_ that it would be a mercy to steal their models away and not an investment.

Ilia stepped out. The reaction was polite at best, lukewarm at worst. The critics chatted over her appearance, nothing out of the ordinary, but not impressed either. They mentioned the colours and the weave as she stepped up.

And then the entire audience gasped.

Ilia's skin, normally a rich tan, flooded red. The change wasn't instantaneous – it washed in slowly over her, transforming her skin and her tiny scales like she was heating up from the inside. The colour even ripped up her hair, turning it from rust-red to blood-red. Every step carried it further, contrasting the rich blue of the cloth she wore.

People in the audience began to stand. Cameras flashed.

"It's working!" Trifa shouted.

"Spectacle," Jaune whispered. He cupped his ear. "Deery, tell her to mix it up! Keep changing."

The message must have been relayed because when Ilia reached the end of the catwalk, she struck a pose, one foot forward, hand on hip, and then changed herself to a dazzling purple with hair whiter than any Schnee. The audience erupted into applause as she spun on the spot, stepping purposefully back, hips swaying. The applause chased her off the catwalk, the first real reaction `Ivory Tooth` had received.

Ilia almost stumbled back into the changing room, flush with pride and embarrassment. "It worked! They loved it!"

"Faunus," Jaune said, slamming his fist into his hand. "That's it! We can't beat them at their own game, but we can beat them at what they _don't_ have. Even Subtle Spice doesn't actually do anything with faunus features. Yuma, get over here – I've got an idea!"

/-/

"Daaamn."

Coco dragged the word out, eyes glued to the screen. Weiss was busy fumbling her way into a new dress after having worked her little butt off for the first half. She'd done well and Beacon was about middle of the pack, which considering they'd only sent out one model and she wasn't even a professional, was more than a little impressive. They'd been ripping the White Fang a new one anyway.

Until now.

"Daaaaaamn!" Yang echoed, hissing through clenched teeth as a literal _fallen angel_ descended from the ramparts, gliding down on spread wings, hands extended, chest bare, legs clasped in tight leather.

Her brain said bat faunus, but every other part of her just said `yes`.

The faunus landed, stepped forward confidently and flexed his wings, spreading them out wide. Small bells and silver ornaments dangled from them, chiming and reflecting the spotlights. The fact he was topless should have been pretentious, but it instead acted like a blank canvass, telling everyone there was no fashion to see there because all of it – every bit – was focused on those gorgeous wings.

And they were, she had to admit. Coco was one of the least racist people around but even she had to say she'd never really _looked_ at faunus traits that way before. She'd always done her best to ignore them and see faunus as normal regardless of their traits. Velvet always told her that was the best thing she could do.

_How much of a mistake have I made there…?_

Ignoring their traits didn't make it better. Pretending they weren't there only perpetuated the idea that they were something unnatural. Faunus clothing sold in stores usually came with ways to either hide, minimise or make their animal parts more convenient. This was the first time she'd seen someone intentionally show them off, and it had her mind running blank.

"You think he's single?" Yang asked.

"He's a terrorist," Blake reminded her.

"Not answering my question."

The audience were up on their feet and clapping in awe; the commentators were going wild. The critics were in heated arguments on whether this was revolutionary or breaking tradition, and if she were being honest those claiming the latter were sounding pretty damn bigoted.

"They're using their faunus parts," Coco whispered. Even as a whisper, everyone heard it. "That's genius! Not only is it the only way they have a chance considering they know less about this than we do, but it sells their message. The White Fang is all about faunus, and you don't get much more pro-faunus than this!"

"They're still terrorists," Blake said, but even she sounded a little unsure of herself. "This is… even if this does wonders for faunus, they still – he still killed Adam. I… peaceful methods…"

"This isn't peaceful?" Ruby asked.

"It is, but… but…"

Coco tuned them out. This changed things. It deserved some fucking praise and hot damn, she'd give it to Jaune for figuring it out, but this was also a glove slapping into her face. It was a challenge. A big challenge!

This wasn't the kind of thing she could respond to with Weiss showing off an exceptional dress. Even if she won on that alone, it would be like losing the war to win a single battle. Sure, she'd come out winning the design side of things, but the conversation – the attention – would be on what the White Fang had achieved. The moral victory would be theirs.

_This isn't fashion. This is a political statement. That true beauty isn't just in being human. It's not just for perfectly manicured models and their fancy dresses. _Coco's eyes widened. That was it! Her message and her revelation.

"Ruby!" she barked. "You're up next!"

"WHAT!? B-But I'm not mentally prepared!"

_I know. That's why you're perfect._

Coco grabbed the girl's shoulders before she could escape. Her dress was a pretty red number with a longer skirt on one side and short on the other, only as high as the knee, but still provocative. Gauze netting hugged her right arm to add a dash of asymmetry. On its own, it wouldn't earn them any credit, especially not straight after the White Fang's opening salvo.

"Just get out there and run to the end of the catwalk," Coco whispered in Ruby's ear. Though Ruby couldn't see it, she wore a sly smile. "The quicker you get it done, the quicker it'll be over…"

"Y-Yeah." Ruby swallowed. "Q-Quick as I can. Got it."

"Make sure to pause at the end!"

"O-Okay!"

Ruby stumbled out nervously and made her way to the curtains, now too embarrassed to back out. Coco closed the door and hurried back to the TV, ignoring the angry glares from the rest of Team RWBY, her older sister especially.

"You could have sent me out first," Yang said. "It's not fair to do this to her."

"Shush. Watch. Watch and prepare to have your minds blown."

On the screen, Ruby didn't so much step out as dart. To them, the sudden rush of red and roses was familiar, but it caught the audience off guard, especially when she streaked to the very end of the catwalk. They barely had time to see the dress. Barely had time to process it. In her panic Ruby came out with Semblance activated, desperate to get it over with as quick as possible. She did remember Coco's instructions, however, stopping suddenly at the end of the catwalk, all attention on her.

It was only Ruby that stopped.

The petals that fluttered behind her whenever she moved carried on, striking her back and fanning out like an explosion of roses. Crimson petals fanned out in every direction, curling around her slim body, pushing her dark locks forward and blasting over the audience. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the soft fluttering of petals dancing their way down across the stunned crowd.

And then, the cheers.

If Ruby squeaked, the cameras didn't pick it up. She blurred left and stopped, blasting more flowers in every direction, then blurred right to pose the other way. With the audience standing up to chap, she turned and fled back into the changing rooms, a streak of fluttering red cloth and roses.

"There!" Ruby gasped, appearing back among them. "I did it and I was awful, and everyone laughed and… and… and is that clapping-?"

Weiss, Yang and Blake stared at her, gobsmacked.

Slowly, Yang turned to Coco. "We can use our Semblances!?"

"If the White Fang get to use what defines them as faunus, there's no reason we can't use what defines us as huntresses. It's _Beacon_ we're representing after all. Not some lame modelling agency. Now get out there and knock 'em dead!"

/-/

"That's cheating!" Trifa yelled at the screen. "Boo! Boo! Semblances aren't allowed!"

The blonde he knew as Yang Xiao-Long stepped out cockily, sauntering down the catwalk in a sassy cross between a dress and a combat outfit. Gone were the gowns Beacon had started with – their outfits were functional now, practically screaming "huntress".

It wasn't enough to wow, but when Yang reached the end of the catwalk, she raised both hands and snapped her fingers. Suddenly, fire burst up around her and her hair started to glow so bright it went beyond gold and became like a second sun. Her bright red eyes stared out challengingly as she posed to one side of the audience and then the other, flames licking up her body without harming her or her outfit.

The audience had never seen the likes of it before. The next person to go up – a regular model – could do nothing. His attempts to flourish and stamp his feet to the beat of the music earned him polite noise at best.

How could he compete with a girl who literally set herself on fire?

"Don't let them get the edge!" Jaune yelled. "Use everything you've got!"

/-/

Bane cut an unusual sight in a three-piece suit with long coattails and a white shirt stretched across his mighty chest. The giant strolled forth with a black cane at his side, which he twirled as expertly as he would his chainsaw. Each step shook the stage, yet for all his gargantuan height there was a grace that underlined it. Belied it.

At the precipice of the catwalk he paused, grunted and flexed his muscles. Fabric ripped and critics gasped, prepared for absolute disaster. His shirt fluttered down, his suit jacket falling as well as the shoulders tore under his sheer girth.

Cries were silenced in an instant.

Skin-tight and bulging around every muscle, a _second outfit_ was revealed – a sporty set of swimwear that one might expect to see on any Mistralian beach. Picking up his cane, he turned it upside down and brought the curved end to his lips, holding it like a snorkel.

Men and women alike crooned, particularly those with children.

/-/

The curtains opened but no one stepped through. For a moment there was confusion – and then a sudden shout and pointed fingers. The floodlights angled up, catching and reflecting off white cloth as Weiss Schnee _walked on air_, stepping from one shining glyph to another. Not on the ground like the regular people, but stepping from platform to platform with dainty grace, pale white dress shimmering with light.

Each glyph shattered behind her, bursting into fragments of white light that drifted to the ground like fallen snow. As she strode above and down toward the catwalk, she finally stepped off onto the same ground everyone else had to walk upon, then spread her arms wide.

Ice burst up all around her, piercing up and out in jagged but uniform spikes, ice sculptures like a tidal wave fanning out around her, never daring to touch but framing her in the centre of a winter wonderland. Her finger touched and glided down the sharp edge of one before, with a snap of her fingers, she made it explode into fine motes of cool dust floating and dancing in the air around her like glitter.

People rushed to their feet as she turned away with a smug grin.

/-/

Sun strolled out in a tank top and shorts with a rope for a belt, clicking his fingers in rhythm with the beat. The audience clapped with him, waiting expectantly. It was a two man show now. Every model in between Beacon and Ivory Tooth was at best an appetiser. The lights dimmed and the spotlights centred on him. The crowd held their breath.

They didn't have to wait long.

On the third snap, two more echoed as two _identical_ copies of the man stepped out from behind him, glowing as they spread out to form a trio of buff faunus men sauntering down the catwalk in perfect unison.

Several women in the crowd cheered happily. The three took on a triangular formation at the end of the catwalk, posing forward, left and right at the same time. It wasn't over there. In an incredible display of dexterous tail strength, Sun had his tail slip up and wrap around the shoulder of his top. He leaned back, allowing the tail to slide his top off all on its own, then swing it back up to his shoulder where he caught it like a coat, turning to look back with his clones, top flung over one shoulder.

The crowd roared.

/-/

A model stepped out wearing a paddling pool

The audience stared in silence.

The paddling pool walked back through the curtain, head bowed.

/-/

Blake stepped out alone.

By that point, the crowd were already on edge, waiting and expecting the next ostentatious display. Storming forward, the angry looking faunus walked to the end of the catwalk in a tight black and white Menagerie-style kimono, twisting left and right so that the crowd could see her before spinning on her heel and storming back.

Before she could leave, two more stepped out – Weiss and Yang quickly taking one of Blake's arms each and walking back to the end of the catwalk dragging her between them. They wore bright and forced smiles and the faunus in the middle certainly managed to look like she was trying to fight them.

Part of the display, obviously. The crowd began to clap in anticipation.

Yang and Weiss carted her forward and tossed her up into the air. It was a hefty throw, carrying Blake a good five feet up. A pillar of ice burst up from the floor to catch her – or rather for her to land on, scramble and try to remain standing on. Before she could even think to jump off or scream bloody murder, Yang activated her own Semblance and caused fire to blow out from around her, melting the sculpture and making Blake fall.

The audience gasped, but Blake's instincts kicked in. A clone appeared under her, caught and set her on her feet, right as Ruby came skidding up at full speed, arms outstretched and rose petals bursting out over Team RWBY like they'd been fired from a cannon.

The crowd stood silent.

For about half a second.

/-/

"Beat that!" Coco crowed at the screen, punching the air as the critics fell over themselves in their excitement, babbling things that barely even made sense anymore. "Suck it, Jaune! You don't come to my town and beat Coco Adel at her game. Nuh-uh. Doesn't happen!"

/-/

"H-How do we beat that?" Trifa asked, slumping against Jaune's side. "A co-ordinated team of huntresses. We don't have the Semblances, let alone one as flashy as Weiss Schnee's! Why is she even a huntress and not a supermodel?"

"They even managed to incorporate Blake," Ilia said. "Mostly through force, but still…"

Jaune gripped the edge of the table, eyes narrowed.

"Someone fetch me a drum and a miniskirt."

/-/

Ilia was the first to emerge, bright red and somehow convincing everyone it was her faunus traits doing that and not the frilly miniskirt and tight top that clung to her chest and little else. Her belly was revealed, shoulders and arms bare as she jogged out onto the catwalk with a pom-pom in each hand. Swallowing, she jogged to the middle of the stage and pushed them left. Her skin and hair flooded pure white.

Give me an Ivory," she shouted with raw humiliation.

Her body swayed right, changing to a dark black skin and hair tone.

"Give me a tooth!"

Back to the centre, both pom-poms in the air, her body was split vertically down the centre, black on one side, white on the other. Not black and white skin tones either. Pure paper white and inky black, like someone had taken two different colours of paint to her.

"Ivory Tooth! Ivory Tooth! Ivory Tooth!"

A drum began to rattle. Bane stepped out, clad in tight white pants and a red uniform top with gold buttons clasped over his huge chest. He had a drum slung over his shoulders and held in front of his stomach, which he tapped two wooden sticks against. The drummer boy moved slowly out from the curtains and down the left side of the catwalk, keeping a steady drumroll as he went.

Yuma came next in a similar outfit but with his wings bared and a strip of cloth stretched out between them proclaiming `Ivory Tooth` like some kind of banner. He had a trombone in his hands, which he played without any real skill.

It really didn't matter.

The raucous din of an entire marching band soon drowned it out.

Sun Wukongs two ranks wide marched out behind Yuma, dressed in the same red and white as Bane. They were followed by two more Sun Wukongs, then two more and two more still, the long column continuing out the curtains even as the procession was halfway down the catwalk, led by Ilia cavorting and cartwheeling in front of Drummer-Bane.

Ten. Twelve. Sixteen. Twenty. _Thirty_ copies of Sun marched in perfect unison, each carrying a different instrument and doing their level best to make what came out of it sound remotely like a musical tune. It didn't work, but the sheer spectacle of it still had everyone gobsmacked.

/-/

"A marching band!?" Coco shrieked unhappily. "No, that's practically a parade! I can't compete with that! Blake, how many clones can you make?"

"N-Not that many!"

"Gah!" Coco clasped her hands to her face and stormed out the changing room, leaving the four members of Team RWBY to shrug and let her go. There could be no coming back from this. While the sheer exotic skill of Team RWBY would trounce anyone else, Jaune Arc had somehow brought an army to a fashion show.

Was this what defeat felt like? Is this what it tasted like?

Bitter. Painful. Crying.

Coco wiped her eyes, but her fingers came away dry. _Crying?_ She thought with some confusion. _Wait, I'm not so sore a loser to cry if things don't go my way. Who is it that's crying out here?_ The public changing room was mostly empty now that each fashion studio was using their private ones for the competition.

While the din and ruckus of a one-man marching band continued past the curtains, Coco slipped over to a nearby private room, listening in. Considering how important the show was, it was hard to believe some people might be taking their loss poorly.

"_Stay still!"_ a sharp woman's voice hissed.

"_It – It hurts. Please…"_

"_Fashion hurts. You're our best bet of coming out on top of this, now sit still."_

"_Why is there so much blood? I never agreed to this-"_

"_You agree to what we say you agree! This year's show is obviously going to a faunus and we need to adapt. They're loving faunus using their animal parts for fashion. We can cash in on that. Stop squirming. I've got it through the holes."_

"_It hurts! Please stop!"_

Coco frowned, ignoring the music outside and resting a hand on the door. Fashion did hurt sometimes, and people could be squeezed into clothes so tight breathing was difficult, but that voice sounded just a little too upset for that. This was a professional show. The models shouldn't be acting like that without good reason.

Sliding the door open, she peeked inside, eyes widening at the sight of a brown-haired rabbit faunus that could have been Velvet from behind. Her long ears stuck up in the air, her face hidden behind her hands in the mirror as she quietly sobbed.

Two older women, human, were weaving golden chains into and between her ears, trying to emulate the animal-trait-centric style the White Fang were cashing in on. It wasn't a bad idea, if done properly.

The metal hammers, holes driven into the faunus' rabbit ears and blood running down her hair brown hair told Coco it wasn't. The rabbit faunus sobbed, and for a moment sounded just like Velvet.

Coco saw red.

* * *

**Honestly, Weiss would kick ass as a model. There's just no way anyone could compete with her glyphs and her ability to control dust and gravity, let alone if she mastered her Semblance to summon white birds like Winter did. Talk about unfair. **

**Of course, Sun – or as he's known SOLAR FLARE – gives it his best shot. Hard to argue with those abs, but I'd still give Weiss the win myself. Just the things we've seen her do in the show like forming mist, making ice explode around her, walking on air. I mean, come on, how is Weiss not the single strongest person in all of RWBY by this point? Throw the sword away! It's practically useless compared to the sheer wizardry of her abilities. **

**Honestly, Weiss' wide range of abilities is why I found it so hilarious when Ozpin told the truth on magic and everyone in the cast was like "OMG". I mean, seriously, have you seen what Weiss does on a daily basis? Most people have like, one ability. Weiss can summon, cast elemental attacks, control gravity and (to a degree) time, and even walk on air. She's practically a wizard herself. In Final Fantasy terms, she's pretty much **_**all**_** the mage classes! And Summoner thrown in to boot. **

**She can even work as whatever it was – Blue Magic? That rubbish one where you get to learn enemy's spells in certain circumstances. Weiss even counts as that since she can use any enemy she beats as a summon. **

**Oh, and the paddling pool model is an actual thing I'm afraid. You can look it up on Youtube.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 18****th**** August**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	21. Chapter 21

**Update - 31st August - I am badly sick this morning I'm afraid and there won't be any Null update today (31st August) or a Rabbit Among Wolves tomorrow (1st September). Stories will resume normally after this. Thank you for understanding and my apologies, I know this story is pacing around its fastest moments right now, so of all the stories I'd have felt comfortable skipping a week on, this _isn't_ the one. Alas, I'm shivering and shaking too much to properly write. The chapter would be like a fever dream. **

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 21**

* * *

Jaune heard the shouting and banging from their private changing room. He spared a nod for the others to keep going with the show and slipped out, quickly hearing the volume increase and a scuffle break out. Ilia was out on stage now, and he had the horrible image of her being arrested on the way back in.

It wasn't Ilia.

Coco Adel of all people was coming out a changing room with a bloody and crying figure in her arms, leaning bodily on her shoulder with her face hidden in Coco's neck. Two women screamed and ranted angrily behind her, threatening everything from legal action to having her thrown out, promising to ruin her career and life.

An angry pair of brown eyes fixed on him. "Oi. Jau- Viv. A hand here?"

_Should we be doing anything together? We're enemies._

The thought didn't stop him hurrying over. The girl Coco was holding was a faunus with long rabbit-like ears, though when he looked closer he could see they were a little more rectangular in shape, perhaps a donkey's ears. She was taller than Coco but hunched and shivering. His hands were, too, when he held them out but didn't dare touch, all too aware of the fact she was both in her underwear and had blood running down her neck and shoulders.

"You got anyone in yours who knows first aid?" Coco demanded.

"I… I'll check." He pressed the comms device on his mask. "Deery? Pass that on, will you?"

"_On it."_

"What happened to her?" he asked Coco.

"Those fucks-" Coco glared back at the Subtle Spices changing room, where two women were furiously shaking and whispering to one another, "-decided to up their game by copying your style and hanging jewellery between this one's ears. It'd make sense if they were pierced or prepared for that in advance, but they decided it'd be quicker to go at it with a pair of hammers and some metal spikes."

In his head he imagined an ear held flat down against a table, a nail placed against it and then the loud _bam_ of a hammer striking. His imagination spared him the agonised cry from the poor girl, but not the surge of anger. He glared back at the two women, one of whom had already sprinted off. Part of him wanted to give chase, but Coco hefted the girl with a meaningful motion. Right. Help the victim first, deal with the bad guys later.

"_Trifa is your girl. Says to bring her in."_

"I have someone who can help," he said, helping Coco and the model to their rooms. "It's just… They might not all be masked inside. Can you…?"

"I'm not waiting outside but I'll keep your secrets. Sides, you've not done anything worth being arrested for yet." She winked at him, but it felt forced and stilted, like she was trying to regain some of her prior mood and couldn't.

The message had already been received by his lot and he was relieved to find they'd all donned fashion masks by the time he got Coco and the model inside. More than that, Yuma had cleared a space on the couches and procured some white cloth and a roll of bandages from somewhere, while Trifa had pinned her hair back and was ready to go with a bowl of warm water.

"Lay her down here. Lay her down – whichever way is comfortable for you. Wow. You're brave to be so quiet. Can you tell me your name?"

"S-Swan…"

"Swan. That's a lovely name. Mine is Trifa and this idiot is Yuma. Don't let him touch you, I've no idea where he's been or what he's caught." She earned a painful giggle from the girl and an indignant huff from Yuma. "Now, let's have a look at those ears. Oh, they're bleeding a lot and it must hurt. Don't worry, though. I'm used to treating faunus and you can – though I wouldn't suggest it – lose your entire ears without being in immediate risk. You're going to be okay…"

Trifa kept talking as she washed the holes, dabbing carefully among bloody fur and ruptured skin all the while going on about Menagerie, herself or Yuma, keeping Swan distracted and talking back. Jaune and Coco backed away, already suspecting they'd only be in the way. Sun was up in their faces before they could say anything, and he didn't look pleased.

"What happened?"

Coco recited the story eagerly. Jaune wasn't sure she wasn't hoping they'd break their disguise and rip Subtle Spices to shreds. "I almost lost my head, but I'm still a huntress in training. I know not to go in swinging against people who haven't got a chance of fighting back. Shame. I wish they _had_ fought back. Would have given me the excuse to use force."

"Bastards…"

"Hey. Aren't you that transfer from Mistral?" Coco asked. "The one who can't button his shirt up?"

"No idea what you mean. I'm Solar. Solar Flare."

"Right…"

"You're the last person to be accusing anyone of anything," Jaune pointed out. "You're not meant to be helping us with our goals."

"They're not meant to be abusing their models. Only reason I came here was because no one on Team RWBY would be of any use. They're good at knocking down Grimm, not patching people up." Coco looked to the TV showing the fashion show and sighed. "Besides, you've as good as won here with what you did on the catwalk. Not much point fighting that now."

Fists banged on the door a second before it clicked open. Two men in black suits entered, followed by both sisters from the Subtle Spices group. They were smiling viciously, though the men in suits were much more polite, one standing with them while the other coughed to draw their attention and looked down at a clipboard.

"Mr Vivian Van… Vivian Von… Mr…"

"Vivian Von Van Volkvan," Jaune replied.

"Y…Yes. That. Ahem. You have been accused of sabotaging a competing fashion studio by abducting one of their models. I'm sure you can understand this is quite the serious accusation, and we do have to treat the matter as such. Would you be amenable to us searching your changing room, just to make sure it's not true, I'm sure you under-?"

"There!" one of the sisters said, stabbing a finger toward Swan. "That's her. See. Proof!"

"My goodness." The official covered his mouth with one hand. "Is… Is that blood…!? Do you require an ambulance called?"

"Might not be a bad idea," Trifa said distractedly.

"Mark. Call the hospital. Quickly now!" The second man at the door hurried out, pulling a scroll to his ear. The first looked nervously at Swan. "Miss Thyme. Miss Rosemary. This obviously looks more an act of kindness than sabotage. Your model is clearly injured-"

"Swan is fine – or she would have been if we hadn't been interrupted!"

"They made it worse," the other twin lied. "We had everything under control when that child from Beacon interfered. They should also be disqualified from the competition."

"Absolutely. Children playing at games above them and making a mockery of fashion."

Coco cracked her neck and removed her shades. "You want to go a few rounds with me?"

"Please. Please." The beleaguered official stepped between both parties. "There's no need for all these accusations. We'll simply ask Miss Swan her account of events and-"

"Swan is under an NDA," Thyme said quickly.

The official hesitated. "An NDA can be waived by an employer when they wish – and surely you wish her to here so she can proclaim your innocence."

Neither offered.

"Telling, isn't it?" Coco hissed.

"Miss Thyme. Miss Rosemary. I cannot make a proper decision without knowing the full story. I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation here, but unless you let me hear it, there is little I can do – and I certainly won't be _disqualifying_ two teams based on your word alone."

"Fine. Then don't. But we'll be taking our model back."

"The girl is clearly in need of medical attention."

"Attention she can receive when the ambulance arrives," Rosemary said, "But that doesn't change the fact she shouldn't be here. Swan is under contract to us and that includes a non-competition clause. Under that contract, she cannot seek employment, work with or interact with rival fashion houses within Vale for a period of up to two years from her employment. If she does, we can terminate her employment at any time."

"Vulgar threats already?" Jaune asked theatrically, angling Lisa Lavender's hidden camera toward them. "Victimisation and violence masquerading as virtue. Such a vile display."

"I agree." The official tilted his head. "I think…? This is not something I can take lightly, ladies. I will have to report this to the organisers-"

"Any and all actions taken within private changing rooms are considered confidential for the duration of the show," Thyme interrupted. "We were assured of this, as was every other agency. We would be within our rights to sue if that was impugned."

"This is all a poor misunderstanding either way," Rosemary said with a simpering smile. "Swan would not be in this situation if it weren't for the girl interfering. Isn't that right, Swan? All of this was done with your consent."

A broken sob sounded from the couch.

Sun stepped between them. "Doesn't sound like she agreed."

"It didn't sound like a disagreement either, you brute. The poor girl is in pain and you're all making it worse. Once this is all over, I'm sure she will be willing to give her statement and show that we acted reasonably."

"You drove nails through my ears!" Swan wailed. The official gasped, swooning.

"Swan!" Thyme snapped. "Those are lies! We won't stand for you spreading misinformation about our methods."

"We could have you in court for slander – not to mention breach of contract." Rosemary forced her temper down. "We won't, of course. You're clearly not thinking straight – no doubt being pressure to say things by Vivian and his models. Look, they're even working together with Beacon. Since when is collaboration allowed in a competition like this?"

"W-Well, it's not," the official said, "But I've not heard any talk of working together, either. They're obviously caring for an injured-"

"Enough! Swan _will_ return with us or we shall cut ties here and call her employment over."

"And since it's clear she's being coached to spread lies about us, we'll see her in court, too. There's no telling what nonsense they'll have her say. Something as ridiculous as us driving nails into her ears, no doubt."

Yuma rose up threateningly. "And if we checked your changing rooms and found the tools used…?"

"You would be breaking and entering," Thyme said. "The changing rooms are considered the property of each team while in use. Even if you found evidence it would be considered inadmissible in court due to the illegal means you took to acquire it. As would anything Swan might say due to the NDA's she is under."

"Not that any of this is true at all," Rosemary added. "It's all baseless accusations."

Jaune turned to the official. The man looked out of his depth. He kept looking back to Swan on the couch, clearly wanting to do more but unsure if he could. His fingers gripped the clipboard with all his strength. "They… They're not wrong," he said reluctantly. "You could file a complaint with the police and request a warrant to search their changing rooms."

"We would co-operate with any investigation," Thyme said smugly. "After all, we've nothing to hide."

"Or," Tukson grunted, "We could go take a look now."

"That's illegal."

Everyone in Ivory Tooth turned to stare at him. Even Trifa looked away from Swan expectantly, while Tukson had already moved toward the door to block it off and Yuma was looming next to the Subtle Spice twins in a clearly threatening manner. Jaune glanced to Coco. Nothing. The huntress refused to meet his eyes, likely because she knew anything she said or did would be used against her when this went down. Ah, shit. There really wasn't much of a choice.

"Verily," he said, reaching for his mask, "It is a shame that Vivian Von Van Volkvan goes by another name." Their eyes widened, blood draining as the tree recognised his face from the news and quickly pieced together just who _Ivory Tooth Studios _really were. "And that neither of those identities cares much for legality."

Tukson and Yuma leapt as one, grappled the two women and pinned them to the ground. The official went unaccosted but still panicked, jumping on the spot and quickly bringing his hands up, palms empty and toward them in clear surrender.

"Oi." Coco stepped forward threateningly. "Watch it with those two. You hurt them and I'll be forced to intervene."

Jaune nodded and waved the official to move aside. The man couldn't have complied faster. "Sun, take Bane and a camera and record everything you see in the Subtle Spices changing room. We'll pass that onto the media later." He almost said Lisa but saved himself at the last. Stepping up to the trapped sisters, he said. "It may not stand up in a court of law, but I'm told the court of public opinion can be just as damning. I wonder how many outlets will dare even stock your outfits once this hits the ground."

"Y-You monster!" Thyme gasped. "Terrorist! No one will believe you – not when Swan speaks in our defence!"

"And she will!" Rosemary growled. "Or else it'll look problematic when we point out a faunus is siding with the White Fang against her employers." Her lips curled up into a vicious smile. "Why, people might start to think she has sympathies with terrorist groups. They may even think she's a member! She'd never find a job in the industry again with that over her head."

"How would I anyway!?" Swan shrieked, sitting up with a bloody towel wrapped around her body. "Look what you did to my ears!" They were spotted with holes. Tears ran down her cheeks as her eyes, rimmed red, shone. "I'm ruined! If… If it's the only thing I can do, then I'll make sure you go down with me!"

Jaune looked back, a curious smile on his face. "You want to drive the nail in yourself…?"

Swan stared back, nervous at first to be facing the leader of the White Fang, but quickly recovering her strength. There was a firmness there he couldn't mistake. "I want to bury them myself!"

"Will you help?" Jaune asked the official.

The man looked lost. "Will I live if I do…?"

"You'll live either way. We're not here to harm you and there's a Huntress right there." He pointed to Coco, who waved impishly. "Whether you'll be able to live with yourself, though? Well, that's up to you."

The man, the human man, looked at Swan's bloody ears.

/-/

No one in the audience knew what to expect after Beacon's last rousing display – one in which Weiss Schnee and Ruby Rose finished back to back on the catwalk, frozen roses spinning gently in the air as they crossed their arms and leaned against one another like two mafiosos. The sparkling display of flowering ice sculptures did most of the work, enough to have people on their feet clapping and gasping, some even reaching out to catch and marvel at the thin, frozen petals melting in their hands. The two huntresses grinned, flourished and went back down the catwalk, applause behind them.

An official in a black suit hurried out from the curtain and to the side, whispering to the judges on the main desk, who nodded back. One picked up a microphone and said, "Our next display is a surprise style from Ivory Tooth Studios titled… the… The Price of Fashion…?"

Their confusion was short lived. The curtains parted and a procession of faunus walked out side by side. In terms of fashion, there was little. They were all of them in their underwear, no stitch of clothing other than what was required. They walked side by side, the hulking giant on the left and the bat faunus on the far right, between them the money faunus and the chameleon flanking and supporting a hunched faunus with long ears.

The first people in the crowd gasped. Others joined as the procession walked down the catwalk and the lights caught sight of the central girl's ears. The blood had dried, the wounds stopped bleeding, but the grisly holes were still there and had taken a toll on her ears, forcing them to droop down unnaturally. The model's eyes were pointed down, her footsteps uneven and reliant on the support of Sun and Ilia beside her.

Those in the audience recognised the agency she was from.

That was not all that drew attention, however. The hulking giant had eschewed the carefully placed leather straps and accessories, showing everyone the thick, ugly scars that marred his back and shoulders, the burns and the poorly healed injuries, the long red lines that could only have been caused by a whip or some other instrument impacting again and again. More than that, however, the letters burned and branded into his back.

**SDC**. **SDC**. **SDC**.

No one dared speak. Men and women sat in their seats, hands over their mouths, eyes wide and some even covering their eyes. Cameras forgot to flash for the longest time, only to go wild when the group reached the end of the catwalk and stood, bared and scarred. They turned, Bane revealing the full extent of his scars, then began the slow and defeated walk back.

The very moment they were gone, a hundred or more people were on their feet, shouting, demanding answers and threatening action.

/-/

Team RWBY were out in time to meet the group coming back, weapons not drawn, but Blake branding a high heel like she intended to use it. Ruby trusted Yang to hold her back, looking around with wide eyes for any sign of Coco. The White Fang had made their move – and things didn't look good. Weiss was practically hyperventilating, so pale that she might as well have been made of snow.

"Coco!" Ruby yelled, spotting her. "W-What are you doing over there? Does he have you prisoner!?"

Their so-called leader looked at the dangerous criminal, Jaune Arc, and laughed awkwardly. Moving away from him and his side, she came over to theirs with a guilty smile. "Not quite. Let's just say things have changed."

"What about that girl?" Blake demanded. "The holes in her ears…"

"Not caused by them. We're busting the ones responsible." Loudly, she added. "And it was Beacon who discovered this, even if the White Fang helped out in bringing them to justice. Or do you want to disagree with that one, Vivian?"

Jaune Arc didn't have his mask on anymore, but he still looked ridiculous in his white suit. Not at all dangerous. Considering his own people were practically naked from their little stint, it was a good chance to try and catch them.

"I don't disagree. We were here to expose them, but Beacon beat us to it."

Why was he agreeing with Coco? Why side with them when he could have taken the glory for himself? He was basically offering them a way out of looking like idiots. "Is this a bribe?" Ruby asked. "Are you trying to buy us off?"

"What? No!"

"It's not," Coco said. "Think, Ruby. What do all of their recent raids and big moves have in common?"

"He's in charge of them?"

"Well, yeah, but I was looking for something more specific. Recordings. They're all recorded and sent to the media after. And he's been angling his left breast to me and everyone he talks to all day. Either he's got nipple lasers as a Semblance or a hidden camera." Coco flicked her shades up and grinned at him. "Tell me it's the nipple lasers. I beg you."

Jaune Arc chuckled. "It's a camera."

Ruby's knees shook. If she'd done as she thought was right and run in to fight him, how bad would that have looked? The footage was probably being streamed elsewhere, so she'd look like she was totally ignoring the fact he'd exposed some bad guys to attack him. And without them doing anything they could really arrest them for right now.

_It would be another disaster! Argh!_

Coco wouldn't be around to bail her out forever, either. She had to start learning these things. On Yang's left, Blake dropped the heel and stepped into it, trying to act for all the world like she'd been getting dressed and not planning to murder someone.

"That's it, then, isn't it?" Ruby asked. "We can't stop them without looking stupid."

"Nope. Technically, this is Vivian Van Von Volkvan and Ivory Tooth Studios, and it's going to stay that way for the next ten or fifteen minutes. At least until people start figuring out what's going on. By which point I assume you lot will have made a run for it?"

Jaune shrugged. "Not a great idea to stick around. Can we leave Subtle Spices with you?"

"I'd not let you take prisoners away. What about Swan? You know it's gonna look bad if you take her with you."

"She's not White Fang."

"Not how it's gonna look," Yang said reluctantly.

"Yeah." Jaune sighed. "I guess we'll have to leave her and hope it works out. I don't suppose you could speak in her defence?"

"Course we can. I know she's innocent and I'm the one who found her bleeding everywhere." Coco waved her hand at him. "Get yourself gone, scoundrel. And watch yourself. You might have beaten us this time, but Coco Adel doesn't take losing well. I'm coming for ya."

Jaune Arc nodded at Coco, and then a second time at them. He stepped back, spared them one final look and then ran back to their changing rooms. Not a minute later, the assorted White Fang `models` left in their civilian outfits, hurrying out the back entrance of the fashion house.

The noise from the main show area had become louder still, people shouting and scraping chairs back, bottles smashing and overall starting to sound like the beginnings of the most polite and high-class riot ever.

"Did you just flirt with him!?" Blake hissed.

"Nah. Course not."

"It sounded like flirting!" Yang said.

"Must be your imagination."

/-/

"Did you just flirt with him?" Glynda Goodwitch hissed, looking up from the video.

"Nah. Course not."

"It sounded like flirting," Qrow Branwen pointed out.

"Must be your imagination."

Coco Adel stood boldly in the middle of Team RWBY and before the headmaster, his deputy and the Uncle of two of her mini-team, grinning up a storm and not at all cowed by the frankly murderous glower Miss Goodwitch was sending her way.

"Miss Adel, this is a serious accusation."

"It really isn't."

"What?"

"It isn't," she said, shrugging her shoulders. "Me stabbing a child is a serious accusation. Me embezzling charity money would be a serious accusation. A teenage girl flirting with a guy, regardless of who he is, is pretty low on the `serious accusation` scale. Hell, most people would believe it if I said it was banter. Others will say it doesn't matter at all."

"Do _you_ believe it to only be banter, young woman?"

Coco chuckled. "No comment."

"Miss Adel does have a point," Ozpin said. "In the grand scheme of things her mannerisms towards Mr Arc are mostly unimportant. What matters is that Beacon was seen taking a pro-active stance in both countering the White Fang, being there to protect the civilians, foiling a crime _and_ even preventing the White Fang from taking away the accused to make an example of them." He looked up from the terminal on his computer, adjusting his spectacles. "Lisa Lavender's report – which happens to be the first airing – has mostly spoken well of both the White Fang _and_ Beacon, praising both of our responses and our willingness to put aside our issues to work together in defence of a victimised faunus."

Miss Goodwitch looked stunned and she wasn't the only one. Team RWBY had come back expecting a serious dressing down for their failure. Only Coco had remained calm and continued to do so, grinning at the headmaster.

"What can I say? I do good work."

"You do, Miss Adel. I have to say I made the right choice in choosing you."

"Genius move on your part," Coco agreed.

"Yes, well, I like to think I know my students well."

"If the two of you are done congratulating yourselves!" Glynda said, fixing both Coco _and_ her boss with a fierce glare. "This doesn't change the fact that the White Fang have come out as heroes _again_. This task force was made to prevent that."

"We limited it." It was Weiss who spoke up. "There was no chance of preventing it entirely, but sharing the glory means we prevented the White Fang taking _all_ of it, which they would have done if we weren't there."

"Weiss is right," Yang said. "Sure, we didn't stop them, but we made sure they had to share. It's a win for them and us, rather than a win for just them like the last few times. That's progress, isn't it?"

"It certainly is," Ozpin said. "And well done to all of you. "It turns out Miss Swan has also been offered a job with A&A Fashion as head of their new faunus fashions department. They're opening a new label called `Fang` that's going to cater to faunus-specific fashion and have decided they want her chairing it. There's quite a lot of change expected in the industry now, if not because certain brands want to make it then because they'll have to. Anyone who isn't seen to fight this will face such a public relations storm that they'll be lucky to survive. Subtle Spices certainly won't even if they do manage to find a way out of their legal troubles. A happy ending, all things considered."

"If you count people literally walking around with White Fang branded clothing a happy ending, then sure," Blake muttered.

"Honestly, Miss Belladonna, I'd much prefer the White Fang a brand label than a terrorist group. I'm sure we all would." Ozpin read on and chuckled to himself. "You might also be interested to know the five of you _won_ the fashion show. Miss Schnee and Miss Rose in particular have received a few part-time job offers, along with requests to feature at the opening of a charity shop next Saturday."

"Pencil it into our diary," Coco said quickly.

"Already done, Miss Adel. Already done. I guess great minds do think alike."

Ruby raised her hand, obviously about to ask whether they got a say in that before she remembered why they were here, how it was a punishment, and lowered her hand with an indignant scowl. Weiss only sighed, used to it all by now.

Yang less so. "Oi! How did _I_ not get an invite?"

"Too stacked," Coco said. "Your chest is too big."

"You wanna say that again?"

"She's probably right, firecracker." Qrow laughed and dodged away from her fist. "And she's not saying there's anything wrong with that, just that most modelling agencies like their girls wispy thin and a little less developed. If you think about it, she's saying you're _too eye-catching_ for modelling work. It's a compliment."

"If we can get back to the subject at hand," Glynda interrupted. "And away from Miss Xiao-Long's measurements. The White Fang have earned _less_ of a victory than they otherwise would have thanks to your quick actions, but that doesn't change the fact they've chalked up another. The Vytal Festival is approaching, and we can't have the White Fang running rampant through that, especially not as beloved hero figures! Atlas will go ballistic."

"Atlas has its own problems," Qrow said. "Those brands on the big guy's back aren't going to be easily explained. No offence," he said to Weiss. "If Jimmy comes down here and tries to pin that on the White Fang, people aren't going to take it well."

"I shall talk to him," Ozpin said. "Until then, continue as normal and well done to both Team RWBY and Miss Adel, both for your actions in the show and after."

"I can't believe we got away with that," Yang said as they stepped out the elevator at the bottom.

"I can't believe we wasted our time competing in a fashion show when we could have been arresting Jaune Arc right then and there," Blake grumbled.

"And _I_ can't believe my teammate flirted with a terrorist!" Velvet Scarlatina roared, hands on hips waiting at the bottom. "Coco! Explain yourself!"

Coco winced. "It was your imagination…?"

Team RWBY watched their PR consultant be dragged away kicking and screaming over the shoulder of an irate rabbit faunus.

/-/

"So…" Jaune wasn't sure of the exact level of politeness required when talking to a dead person in your head. Adam stood across from him, mask back in place and lips tugged down into his usual, perpetual frown. "It's been a while. How you doing?"

"Dead. You?"

"Alive. Uh. Helping the White Fang?"

"If you call making trained killers prance down a catwalk helping, then sure."

"Hey." Jaune would have normally backed down, but after all the hard work he'd put into the fashion show, all the alliteration and the things he'd seen, he wasn't about to here. Not to a prick like Adam. "We helped the faunus today. You can't deny that. Swan is going to have a better career now she'd free of Subtle Spice, and faunus will be better represented."

"You also shat all over the SDC by showing Bane's scars," Adam pointed out. "That, I approve of." Obviously _that_ would be the thing Adam focused on. And he was rubbing his hands together and chuckling under his mask like a cartoon villain. Great. "As for what you did, I admit, this will help _some_ faunus, but not all of them. You're applying a band aid to a broken back. You think fashion is the only industry treading down our kind? It's not. This is systematic of so much more and a fashion show here and there isn't going to fix things."

"And your actions were…?"

"I would have cowed humanity into submission."

"They'd learn to hate faunus."

"They already do."

"Not all of them," he argued, thinking of the official in the show and also Coco Adel. "There are plenty of people who would help if they were given the chance. Aren't I a perfect example of that?"

"The man only aiding us to clear his name?"

"Oh. Right. Ahem." He flushed. "There are still loads of other people and you can't deny that. Your plan isn't to raise the faunus up but drag humanity down. That'll put everyone on the same level, but it'll be a shitty level for everyone."

"You're being naïve. Inequality flourishes because it allows those on the right side of it to be better off. They have more resources, more wealth, specifically _because_ the other side has less. Bringing everyone back to an equal footing won't just mean more for the oppressed. It means less for those at the top, hence why people like Jacques Schnee and the politicians in charge of Vale will never accept it. Oh, they'll dance to the tune of it and acknowledge your actions as good where they are, but only as long as it takes them to find _one thing_ to nail you to the wall over. And then all of this – all you've made – will come toppling down."

Jaune sighed and crossed his arms. "You're in a fucking miserable mood tonight. What did I do wrong?"

"You had Blake on a catwalk!" Adam accused, stabbing a finger out at him. "And you didn't _once_ try and challenge her to a swimsuit competition!"

"I knew it would be something like this…"

"Not once!" Adam raged again. "What kind of hotblooded man are you? You had _the_ most perfect woman in existence right there. The Schnee? The allegedly related sisters who look like they don't so much as share an ancestor? Who cares about them? To see those morons laud over them while _Blake_ walked down that catwalk…" He turned away, shaking. "It was incredible. Just the sight of her, the light reflecting off her raven locks."

"Adam, no."

"It moved me. It made my heart stutter…"

"No. Adam. No. Don't you dare."

"_Yellow eyes on stage,_

_Judging everyone as lesser,_

_Not unlike a cat."_

Jaune planted his face in one hand, watching as Adam turned away from where one might imagine the moon to be if his brain had a moon – and wouldn't it have been strange if it did? The masked man waited expectantly, eventually scowling and saying, "Well? It's powerful, isn't it? The layout is an old Mistral custom."

It was powerful alright. Jaune had already given up wanting to fight it.

"Sure. Very intense. Much wow. Anyway-"

"I have more if you want to hear them."

"No, that's really not-"

"_Black petals touch me,_

_Hair soft and fragrant as roses,_

_But she is a cat."_

"Is she a cat, though? Really?"

"It's poetry," Adam stated. "Metaphor. The meaning is deeper – and she is my cat. My black cat, for which the only misfortune I ever received was the hours I spent without her at my side." Looking away, he whispered, "I was less of a man in those times…"

"Can we talk about something more immediately important to the White Fang? I wanted to ask your thoughts on Cinder-"

"_Hair like ash, eyes burn,_

_Taking the colours of my love,_

_She is not my cat."_

"Yes. That person." Jaune tried hard not to point out Adam's less than stellar skill at poetry. "She wants us to steal dust and I'm fairly sure she'd going to be upset at us when we don't. Upset at me. Enough that she might kill me."

"I know. I'm rooting for her."

Asshole. Jaune opened his mouth and then changed tack. "That's fair. I mean, I did kill you. On the other hand, sticking with me means you have more chances to see Blake through my eyes. Since she's after me to avenge you and all, wouldn't that mean you'd get to see her being all emotional about you, proving her feelings for you once and for all?"

Adam whirled to face him. "You must live."

"Yeah, I had a feeling you'd say that…"

"You must also date Blake."

"Not happening."

"You would suggest any woman can hold a candle to her glory?"

"No," he lied. "But I'm fairly sure she'd like to hold a candle under a pile of dust I'm strapped to and watch me go up like a gory red firework. And that'd be bad," he reminded Adam, "Since the longer you're with me, the more you get to see of Blake. Maybe even Blake in different outfits, doing different things. I mean, we did a catwalk today. What's to say we won't one day have a big mission on a beach and get into a jet-ski battle with her?"

"Or a wet T-shirt contest?"

Jaune opened his mouth to explain why he'd probably lose one of those with a woman before shrugging. "You know what. Sure. Whatever. But only if I'm not killed by Cinder. After all, if she kills me then Blake can't avenge her beloved Adam Taurus, can she?"

"I know you're trying to manipulate me…"

"But…?" Jaune prodded.

"But you're right. If you are to fall to anyone, it must be to Blake. Come." Adam bid him follow, though _where_ he was meant to follow a dead man in his head, he wasn't sure. "I will tell you what I know, and then we shall talk on how to mislead her."

"Can't I just beat her with clever strategy or the power of teamwork?"

Adam burst out laughing.

Jaune pouted. "You could have said no…"

* * *

**I know a few people have asked why Blake still likes Adam in this story given how much of a psycho he was in the show. I'd remind people that he started going full psycho **_**after**_** Blake left, so her last memories of him are more about a man driven too far who she could no longer agree with, but who was killed by Jaune Arc before he ever had a chance to redeem himself.**

**Not the, you know, "I'll kill everyone you love" Adam.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 1****st**** September**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	22. Chapter 22

**Where is Beast of Beacon?**

**Due to me being ill last week and not updating this story, I'm doing Rabbit this week and Beast next week. I've altered the dates on the bottom of beast and made a message at the top of the last chapter to explain it as best I can. Thanks for understanding.**

* * *

**Cover Art: **Serox

**Chapter 22**

* * *

"Coco, no!"

"I haven't even done anything."

"Coco!" Velvet repeated, shouting at the top of her voice. "No!"

What was she, a dog? Coco looked to Fox and Yatsu for help but neither knew what to do with a Velvet who had gone from shy wallflower to angry mom. Sat upon her bed with her hands behind her and feet crossed, Coco watched her teammate pace back and forth, ears erect and feet stomping down so loud the room below them must have had a headache.

This wasn't even the worst of what she'd expected. Call it PR or a clever trap or just the heat of the moment, but after watching Jaune Arc save that donkey faunus with her, show the same concern she had and take her down the catwalk to expose the crooked fashionistas and singlehandedly reform the fashion industry in one move, she'd not been thinking straight.

Velvet might have thought that was just hormones or because Coco loved fashion, but it was more than that. It was plain heroism. And yeah, it was heroism from a terrorist and that didn't balance out the bad things he'd done, but how much bad had he really done? In Vale at least, she couldn't really see all that much and he'd just been so _reasonable_ when she spoke to him. While she'd fully intended her commentary on enemies not having to hate one another, it'd also been a test to get a feel for him. If he'd been a vengeful, angry, human-hating asshole then she'd have happily sent Team RWBY after him.

_Kind of annoying that he's such a good guy. Why are all the good ones gay or terrorists?_

"I thought you had a brain!" Velvet ranted. "I thought you were smart. I thought you knew what you were doing!"

"I thought you were gay!" Fox blurted out.

Velvet glared at him, then bobbed her head and looked back awkwardly. "Me too…"

"Yeah, and?" This had to be the first time she'd ever felt defensive about her sexuality, and ironically enough it wasn't because someone was angry she liked women. It shouldn't have been normal to have to defend being interested in a guy. "That mean I can't experiment a little? Maybe I was curious."

"About being straight…?"

"More bi, baby, but sure. Why not? I didn't get on your back when you kissed Yats, Fox."

"That was because it was truth or dare and you made us!"

"Same difference."

"Kissing a confirmed _terrorist_ is not the same!" Velvet growled, stomping her foot. "And I see what you're doing, Coco. This subject isn't getting changed anytime soon!"

"Not even if I say that by questioning my sexual choices you're making me uncomfortable?"

"Don't you dare try pull the oppressed card here!"

Coco winced. Okay, yeah, that was pretty scummy. You know what hadn't been? Jaune Arc. "Look, I don't know what to say," she said with an angry sigh. "I only did it the first time to get him worked up, see if I could make him show some hatred towards humans or something. You know, trip him up on live TV. It wasn't even a proper kiss."

"And the flirting after…?"

"I was in a happy mood! You know what I'm like, I tease. Everything I say is flirty when I'm like that. I practically flirt with Oobleck and Glynda." Coco sighed, thinking back. "You had to be there, guys. It was a brown-haired donkey faunus, and I swear from the back she looked like Velvet. I saw blood, holes and tears and lost it."

Velvet's face softened. "Coco…"

"I was angry and about ready to spit shit, holding onto some sobbing girl bleeding all over me. Maybe I wasn't thinking straight, but _he_ was there and _he_ helped. In that moment I put aside the fact he was an enemy to look after Swan, and say what you want about the White Fang, but they did the same. We all ignored what issues we had to look after some poor woman being treat like shit. And this was right after a fashion-off!" Coco giggled helplessly. "How was I meant to look at them like enemies after that? Terrorists don't strut their stuff like that. It was funny."

"I'll admit that the fashion show was impressive." Yatsuhashi said. "From both sides. Your new team showed off well with their Semblances. It was artistic."

"They were good, weren't they?" Coco preened. They weren't _her_ team, but she felt proud of them all the same. "The White Fang were good, too. It was a battle alright, but it was the best kind of battle from my point of view. No bloodshed and all for a good cause. I… I guess I let my guard down." She shrugged, not too upset about it. "It's not like I'm going to do that if they're legitimately attacking innocent people. The second he does something wrong, I'm on him."

"Kicking his ass or to make out with him?"

Coco chucked a pillow at Velvet's head. "Lesbian does not equal sex pest."

"It doesn't even equal lesbian by the sounds of it."

"Oh, whatever. I've never been interested in guys before, but I _have_ other girls. This is literally the first guy I've thought I wanted to get to know more so maybe I'm bi leaning ninety-nine per cent towards women. There's a colour scale for this somewhere, I'm sure. That doesn't mean I'm compromised or going to run off and join a terrorist org."

"What does it mean?" Fox asked. "For the White Fang and you, I mean. Whatever this guy is doing, the White Fang as a whole are still, well, terrorists."

Yeah, and they _were_ terrorists. Bombings, kidnappings, attacks and even murder. The kind of shit that had Coco's fists clenched tight. Jaune Arc wasn't like that, or she wanted to think it, but he was still part of the White Fang.

"I don't know. Blake wants him arrested and brought in, but to be honest I don't…"

"Coco," Velvet warned. "That's a dangerous thing to say."

"And it's not what you think, babe. Right now, he's playing this nice and friendly. The rest of the White Fang is still being violent maniacs, though. So, what do you think happens if Jaune Arc is killed or arrested and a new leader is put in charge of Vale's lot?"

"They would revert to violence." Yats said. Velvet's eyes widened and the swore quietly.

"Bingo, big man. They'd either go violent because they'd say his approach didn't work or because the new leader is one of those nutcases they usually have, someone like Adam Taurus or Sienna Khan. So as much as my broody little minion might want him behind bars, that's the last thing I want."

"Ideally, what do you want…? If you could force any conclusion?"

Coco considered it, humming and kicking her legs. "I guess I want to trap him."

"Coco!"

"Oh, get your head out the gutter, Vel. Trap him in his role, not between my legs. Sheesh. He's stuck having to play the good-guy liberator at the moment. If he's legit about that, great. If not, then I could weave such a web around him that he daren't step out of line or the White Fang's reputation tanks. In an ideal world I'd like to see him, and the White Fang stuck having to take this good-guy angle and expand it across the whole group. Turn from terrorists into freedom fighters."

"Wow." Velvet stopped pacing to stare at her. "That's… I mean, that would be great, but do you think it's possible? There are a lot of angry people in the White Fang."

She hadn't said it would be easy and there was for sure a lot of people who wouldn't like it, but any group like that had to work based on a goal, an objective. If those people were willing to risk their lives for equality, then they should be willing to risk their comfort, too. If Jaune Arc's approach could be proved to _work_ then the White Fang leadership might think it worth testing out elsewhere, and if that worked, too. Well…

Why not try it full-scale? Lots of faunus would angrily quit or rail against it, but she could only hope enough would want to achieve their goals bad enough to grit their teeth and act like good people even if deep inside they hated humans. You couldn't erase bigotry, but if you could make people want the alternative hard enough then you could at least stamp it down and make those who _were_ racist not feel it was a good idea to act on it.

"I think it's worth trying," Coco eventually said. "And besides, it's not like I can just attack him _before_ he does anything wrong. He has nipple lasers, Vel. Nipple lasers!"

Velvet sighed. "Yes, he has cameras. I guess you have a point…"

"Good. So, can we leave this be?"

"You still flirted with him! It was on the nine o'clock news!"

"Fucking Lisa Lavender." Coco groused. "And to think I used to call her a hot piece of ass."

/-/

"_Jaune Arc."_

"Sienna Khan."

Jaune remained on one knee, which was slightly more horrific than he would have liked given that the floor was a wet sewer full of rat droppings, rats and also human droppings. The trousers would need to be incinerated later.

"_You place me in a difficult position. Not one I'm used to. On the one hand I should congratulate you for not only exposing the cruelty of humans on live television broadcast across every Kingdom of Remnant, not only revealing the depths of their inhumanity but forcing them to address and accept it."_

Jaune smiled awkwardly. That _had_ been a good thing he'd done, hadn't it? For all that his goals were to reveal himself as not a bad guy and get out the White Fang, he felt proud about that. "Thank you, Sienna."

"_On the other hand!"_ she said. _"You have trained and well-respected members of the White Fang stripping down to their underwear and parading themselves on a catwalk. What am I supposed to think of our war against the humans when one of our own is busy doing that?"_

That warring was a bad idea? That all conflicts should be solved via the medium of catwalks? Jaune went with his usual approach to be told off by a woman older than him. He stayed quiet and hoped that if he didn't move or make a sound, they'd not be able to see him. It was a Juniper-tested approach.

"_You are fortunate this all worked out in the end. Had it not, you would have made us look like fools! As it is, I cannot criticise what has yielded results."_

His relief was palpable. "Thank you, Sienna."

"_You ought to watch your progress, however. While I and the Albain brothers are pleased with your success, there are others who believe your methods to be `untrue` to the White Fang. Fanatics and extremists who might very well seek to undermine you. I shouldn't have to tell you that a single masked faunus shooting someone in Vale will completely wipe away anything you have achieved thus far. The humans will not care for you claiming it was not under your orders."_

He didn't doubt it. There was nothing he could do about it, though. If someone decided to do that, he couldn't stop them until it was too late. Swallowing, he looked up to the screen. "Is anyone like that coming to Vale?"

"_Not under my orders. Then again, with the Vytal Festival approaching who can keep track of every person? I am warning you of this not as a threat but so that you might be aware of the possibility."_

"Do you… Do you have any advice on how I could prevent it?"

Sienna appeared pleased with the question – or maybe that he needed her help. _"The stronger your position among all faunus in the city, the stronger your claims will be. Even the most extreme of extremists will think twice about damaging your position if it's abundantly clear your actions are helping the cause." _

"The fashion show will help!" he argued.

"_I know that. The Albain brothers know that. You know that. Muscle-bound idiots who don't consider a battle a victory without a Schnee head rolling on the floor do not. They will see your victories as pathetic games and worthless distractions from the real war."_

"Then… what would they see as good?" he asked. Then, to be safe, he added, "That isn't killing, I mean."

"_Your recent recruitment is one example. Whether they approve of your methods or not, they can look at the number of people you've recruited and accept that this has benefitted the White Fang. Your attack on the SDC lumber camp was another because it exposed the Schnee and rescued several faunus. Think of it in terms of factions,"_ she said, taking on a strangely lecturing tone. _"The White Fang, like any organisation, is compromised of several groups with differing ideas and opinions. I must balance the support of each, and so must you. So far you have appealed to the moderates and the peaceful but ostracised the violent. You may think that is a fair trade, but they will not, and the more extreme factions are the ones you should be most afraid of upsetting!"_

Because their reactions would be, as suggested, extreme. Jaune sighed and nodded his head. He'd never thought about it because everyone in the White Fang here seemed so normal. Adam was the most extreme and he was dead. Though, maybe one could say Fenris or whatever that idiot's name was, counted among the number. He'd planned to just ignore them, but now that looked like a bad idea.

_I should have figured that out myself. People who are ignored will try and take matters into their own hands sooner or later._

"Thank you for warning me." He was genuine in it. "I'll do my best to balance their needs and stop anything bad happening. Just as an example, would another raid exposing people as corrupt help?"

"_It might. So long as it's a military raid and not a fashion or cookery show."_ Sienna's voice dripped with sarcasm. _"Even so, you should make sure it exposes humans and benefits faunus. That might buy you time, but it won't alleviate the problem entirely. All of this reputation you're gaining, all of this kudos among the population of Vale, must serve some greater purpose."_ Sienna leaned in. _"The immediate benefit is better recruitment and a lowering of Vale's defences around you, but that is a means to an end, not an end in itself. I trust that you are aiming toward something."_

"Of course," he lied. "This is… This is but the first step of my grand plan…"

"_Excellent. Then take steps towards that. Make them obvious enough that the other factions can see where you are headed, and they will give you leeway. It is precisely `because` your actions appear directionless that they are frustrated. They see the forces you have gathered, the influence you are gaining, and wonder when you will use it to strike!"_

Jaune jumped at the last word. Strike. Kill. He swallowed. "I… I understand, Sienna. Thank you for your warning and let everyone in Menagerie know I will show them the fruits of our labour here soon."

"_I am pleased to hear that, Jaune Arc. You do the White Fang proud."_

The screen flickered off and Ilia began to dismantle the miniature CCT transmitter, storing it away while Jaune remained on one knee, face wrought with frustration. Yet another promise he couldn't hold up to, and this time to satisfy people thirsting for blood. As much as he hated to say it, he could see where they were coming from. All his efforts so far were great for bolstering recruitment and giving the White Fang a family-friendly image, but that was useless if it didn't serve a greater purpose - and it did, the purpose of clearing his name. That wouldn't satisfy the White Fang, though.

What would Adam do?

No. Bad idea.

Something else, then. Some way of showing – or at least implying – that he had a bigger plan this was all in support of. Ideally, something that wouldn't be instantly illegal and get him thrown in jail, but something the radicals would see as valuable.

"Hey, Ilia." He called over to her when she was done and ready to leave. "You dealt with Adam before me. What kind of plans did he have for Vale? Other than killing everyone, I mean."

"I'm not sure there _was_ more to it than that if I'm being honest. Make people afraid of the White Fang, rip away the security blanket that was Beacon, show the humans we're as if not more dangerous than the Grimm. Kill everyone Blake has grown close to out of some weird idea that it'll make her run into his arms for comfort."

"And working with Cinder?"

"All I know is that she had plans for Beacon and Vale, and that Adam was fine with us being used in them because she wanted something in particular and didn't care who took the credit. Adam wanted to claim this was all the White Fang's doing. Is this about pleasing the radical factions?" she asked. "Are you trying to think of a way around what Sienna said?"

He shrugged and admitted it. "Pretty much. You have any ideas?"

"The aggressive factions – there's more than one and the radicals are just the extreme aggressive – mostly care about a few things; higher numbers of recruits, victories in battle, anything that damages the SDC and causing problems for Atlas. They also care about the things everyone in the White Fang does like helping faunus and such, but they're more excited by the idea of taking the fight to the enemy than staying home and bolstering our reputation."

Well that wasn't helpful. He couldn't do any of those things! Going after the SDC would just draw parallels to him and every terrorist ever, attacking a Kingdom like Atlas was not only suicide but again, terrorism, and he'd already gotten high numbers of recruits. The question on their minds now was how he intended to use them.

"That doesn't help at all…"

"Sorry." Ilia said. "If it helps, they're the kind of people who like to lash out. They like to blame people and they see themselves as warriors. The strong and bold faunus willing to stand up and do what is necessary for faunus everywhere. They model themselves as protectors, even if they're mostly just a bunch of maniacs."

"Like Adam?"

Ilia nodded happily. "Like Adam."

Protectors, huh…? That was a thought.

/-/

Lisa Lavender sat back in her penthouse, lips playing coyly as she fought a smile threatening to come tumbling out. She kept swirling white wine around the inside of a glass but hadn't drunk any for a while. Her eyes were practically glinting like diamonds. Another fresh set of quashed stories lay on the table, stories of inequality and oppression suppressed by wealth or power, but for once those went ignored as Jaune laid out his current problem and his rather unorthodox solution.

"That," Lisa said, "Is singlehandedly the most ambitious and possibly the most reckless plan I have ever heard. I love it."

"Do you love it because you think it will work or because it will make an amazing story for you even if it fails?"

"A little bit of both. I can't say if it'll work or not but there's no way it won't become the biggest defining act of your rise to power. If you succeed or not will depend on you, but this – this will be the turning point in many people's eyes." Lisa shuddered violently, biting her lip and gripping her armrest, digging her nails into the fabric. "I cannot wait to cover it!"

Jaune sighed. Lisa was so useful in so many ways, but this? Useless. "What do you think, Sun?" he asked. "You're meant to be our resident good guy? Is this going too far? Is it too evil?"

"Eh. I reckon some people will say you've gone off the deep end. Me, though? I like it." Sun hesitated. "Then again, maybe that's because I _know_ what the plan is. Other people might take it the wrong way."

"That's what I want Lisa's help for. To dress it up nicely."

"I'll see what I can do," the newscaster said. "I do think something like this had to happen eventually. Those factions of yours aren't wrong to demand action, and you were going to need to go _somewhere_ with all this work you've been doing."

"Do you think it'll satisfy the radicals?"

"I think that if it does not, it will at least answer their questions and alleviate concern. To see, or at least have a glimpse, of your end goal will tell them you're not just wasting time or playing things nice because you're a coward."

Jaune winced. "Y-Yeah. Totally not."

"Pft. As if anyone could think that!" Sun laughed and hooked an arm around his shoulder. "I'm in. As long as you stick to the main goal, I'm with you. Deviate from that…? Well, you won't need to worry about Vale taking you down in that case."

"I get it. And I intend to."

"Hah. I believe you, man. I believe you. Why else do you think I'm here?"

"It's decided then." Lisa said, all smiles, all hunger for the story. "All we need now is a suitable stage for your… ah. Declaration. Somewhere I can be in my normal job. It would certainly help if this was broadcast everywhere, even internationally. You want the White Fang to see it."

"Is it safe for you to be involved as Lisa Lavender?"

"If I'm already expected to be there, sure. I'd be an idiot not to drop tools and record something like this. These won't do." Lisa swept a hand across the table to remove the documents, but Jaune stopped her by catching her wrist.

"Wait. I think I _will_ take these. The message would only be better with results, wouldn't it?"

Lisa looked like she was on the verge of an orgasm. It was honestly a little awkward, especially as she tried to hold onto his hand when he was pulling away. He had to give a solid yank to escape. Sun was no help, winking and grinning like a loon.

"Ahem." Jaune coughed, cheeks red. "I'll get this started. Can you find me a time and place to make it happen?"

"Oh Jaune." Lisa purred. "I have _just_ the place in mind. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah." Jaune closed his eyes and thought back on brown eyes winking his way. "I think we need new masks for the recruits. Something that doesn't make people instantly think of Grimm. Something that can inspire people…"

"I think that's a good first step – especially if you want to show the differences between the White fang and you. As for the rest, well, with the Vytal Festival approaching there are going to be a few big events. Speeches, displays, shows – even a small parade. If you want a public stage from which to send your message, I can't think of a better time than that. The whole world will be watching."

Oh hell. No pressure, then. Jaune took a deep breath and nodded along. This… This needed to be public, whether he liked it or not. There'd be little going back from it either, but if he did it well, if it went as he hoped, then it would deal with the White Fang's concerns. He'd rather not bother at all, but Sienna was right that someone would get dissatisfied and try to pull something. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep an eye on every faunus entering the city. All it would take was one with a gun to ruin everything. If he wanted to keep hold of this revolution, he had to own it. And that was what it was.

A revolution.

/-/

"I have the report, General."

Winter Schnee set the folder down on General Ironwood's desk, stepped back and linked her hands behind her back, waiting for him to pick it up and skim through. He didn't read it yet but instead checked to make sure all was in order. Winter stood patiently, trusting he would find no fault in her work.

"Very good, Winter. You're as precise as ever."

A tiny smile. "Thank you, General Ironwood."

"At ease."

Her arms relaxed and fell to her sides. "Sir."

"What do you think of this so far? This… Jaune Arc."

"A charismatic manipulator, sir. He's got a good head when it comes to public relations and how to send a message. As a diplomat or ambassador, he would excel. If I may, sir, I'm surprised the White Fang haven't tried to use someone like this before."

"Hmph. It's because they've been run by madmen for the longest time. That's made them dangerous but also easy to predict." He set the papers down. "I'm not sure I like this new facet any better. A wild animal like Taurus was a threat, but one easily contained. He made enemies of everyone he interacted with. Someone charismatic like this, able and willing to twist hearts and minds to his side, is far more dangerous."

"I agree, sir. He's the larger threat in the grand scheme of things."

"I'm glad someone sees it. Ozpin cannot – or perhaps he can but feels he cannot act without sufficient evidence. That man isn't a fool, but he has been overly cautious in the past…"

"There was quite the scandal at the docks, sir."

"I remember. I've also heard about what he has your sister doing. Foolish." He snorted and shook his head. "Or rather, wasteful. It's nor a bad idea to fight back against what the White Fang is doing, but by engaging them in a challenge of their own making, Ozpin is legitimising them. He's making them appear as equals to the huntsmen, when they should be hunted down as terrorists."

Winter nodded. This was why you didn't negotiate with terrorists. People might have thought that attitude was a hard-line decision from Atlas or a warning for their enemies not to try, but in truth the reason for it was because to negotiate with someone was to suggest you were both on an even level. It humanised the other party, showing everyone that they _could_ be negotiated with. Whether or not Ozpin had meant it that way, he'd begun negotiations and now the White Fang had a foothold in Vale.

"This is a disaster." Ironwood said. "The Vytal Festival is soon, and you just know the White Fang have something big planned. This." He waved the images of the catwalk. "This is a means to an end. They're planning something, and we all know whatever that is will take place in Amity." Ge let the folder fall, slapping it down on his desk. "They need to be rooted out and dealt with before then. We must root them out swiftly and eradicate them, preferably _before_ they can play any more of these games and worm their way even deeper into Vale."

"Agreed, sir. Shall I prepare more soldiers for our journey to Vale?"

"Yes. Being the Ace Ops as well. I will speak with the Council of Vale and push for them to grant me power to control the security around the festival. Once that happens, we can have boots on the ground. Ozpin may be content to let terrorists run around his city making a fool of him, but I shall not." He slammed his hand down. "Jaune Arc will be rotting in a cell before the month is out."

/-/

Trifa and Yuma looked over their mission, sharing a quick look before glancing over to where Perry, Deery and Tukson were working on their own and Sun and Bane were planning a third. Three raids at once, three sets of corruption – one crooked police officer taking bribes from criminals, one recruitment agency forcing faunus into zero-hour contracts and one judge who had spared a man jail for drunk-driving and running down a faunus couple; the drunk had been his nephew.

Three high-profile and high-reward raids that'd go a long way to highlighting just how fucked up the system could be where faunus were concerned. Yuma liked the effort, but still, it was sudden.

"Three at once?" he asked the boss. "I'm not saying we can't manage it, but is there a reason we're speeding things up? This isn't going to be easy."

"You're free to take from the new recruits for any help you need. In fact, I want you to. Use them even if you don't need them. Have them stand guard, lookout or man getaway vehicles. I want them all to feel involved, whether or not they actually are. Better still, I need all three of these raids to _finish_ at the same time. Six. Or just before six – aim for five-thirty or a quarter to six, but make sure _no one_ knows. If you can capture them and keep it secret for longer, do so. They need to be caught and incriminated by six, though. Next week – next Monday."

"Monday?" Tukson asked. "That gives us four days. It should be doable…"

Four days was more than enough to plan an attack, and this would need to be planned if they were all to pull them off at once. Some would be easier than others, so some would need to start sooner. Keeping all that activity hidden would be the rough part. _Not impossible, though,_ Yuma thought. Most of these, bar the police chief, were out the way. They'd been given the chief, too, and he assumed that was because he and Trifa were the more experienced.

"Will Ilia be helping?" he asked. "We could use her on ours."

"I need Ilia with me." Jaune said.

"Ahh. You're planning a _fourth_ event, huh? Something that you need all the other three done for?" Yuma watched him nod and felt a grin creep over his face. "Damn, this is going to be big, isn't it?" Another nod. A laugh from him. "Hell yeah. This is what I signed up for! Showing off my hot bod was fun but making a scene like this will be even better."

"What about evidence?" Trifa asked, ever the more careful. "How much will we need?"

"Enough to convict all three people. The judge should be easy – it's a clear conflict of interest even _if_ the guy ends up cleared a second time. He shouldn't have been involved in the case at all. The police officer will be the harder one. Lisa has evidence, though. It should be enough to get you started and I included it with your package."

Yuma picked it out and set it aside to read through later. They'd probably need to break into the precinct, which more realistically meant looking through their recruits to see if any had ties to the police they could use. They'd understandably be reluctant to use those, but if they explained it was to bust a crooked cop supply intel and protection to Roman Torchwick, known asshole and racist, then he was sure they'd budge. As long as they promised not to hurt anyone else in the precinct.

"Are you going to keep us guessing or what?" Perry asked. "Come on, boss. Give us a hint of what you're up to. You can trust us."

"I guess I should tell you." the boss said. He sighed, turned toward them and set his hands down on the planning table. "We're going to go public, more public than we already are, and send our message out across the world."

"We're already pretty public," Deery said. "Everyone knows of us. What else is there we can do?"

"Ladies and gentlemen." Jaune looked to each of them in turn. "We are going to declare war."

* * *

**Though, not war as you know it for obvious reasons. I've a feeling this is going to end up looking a little more Code Geass-y now that I look at the plan. It's funny because I never thought it was until someone commented on the big robot and the idea of a revolution, and now someone has put the words "Code Geass" in my head I can't stop seeing bits of it everywhere.**

**Jaune wants new masks – it's Code Geass! Jaune has a robot – it's Code Geass! Jaune has a brunette alter-ego on the other side – it's Suzacoco Adelarugi! General Ironwood is after him – it's Britannia! Ozpin is technically immortal – Gasp, Charles or VV! There is a girl with green hair and vision-based hallucination powers – argh, Emerald is CC! **

**I'm probably just falling into the trap of **_**looking**_** for similarities now, but I can't help it. Curses!**

**Though given Jaune isn't a strategic genius I can't help but imagine a scene where Ironwood invites him to play chess on his huge battleship, except Jaune has no idea how chess works and instead they end up playing naughts and crosses while everyone watches in awe. **

**"You have taken the top left corner? Foolish. He who takes the centre wins."**

**"If the King does not back himself into a corner first, how can he expect to draw a straight line?"**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 22****nd**** September**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	23. Chapter 23

**Ignore the troll spamming offensive guest reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 23**

* * *

Timing would be everything.

Early, and the world would laugh. Late, and things might not work at all. This would be the tightest timeframe he'd ever worked on, and with four different parties having to do it at once, Jaune's confidence was practically shot. That was despite the fact that he had what was by far the easiest task. Where everyone else would be cornering, raiding or incapacitating the corrupt and cruel elements of the city, he was stood in a room with Ilia balancing a camera on a tripod. It wasn't entirely fair to say it was that easy, though. His legs were shaking so the simply act of standing was harder than it usually was.

Less risky. The building they were in was mostly disused, though not abandoned. It was an old office block with the offices up for rent but no one wanting them. The area had fallen into disrepair, and even though the offices were refurbished and modern, it just wasn't an attractive place to do business. The owner had been so eager to accept anything for the use of one that he hadn't bothered asking what they did or what they wanted it for. They'd taken up a decent sized meeting room at that moment and string up a grey cloth backdrop over one wall, the wall the camera was facing.

"You know, this looks like a porn shoot." Ilia commented.

"What porn have you been watching? Actually, don't tell me."

"You know, the casting couch."

"I said not to tell me…"

"I think it's the fact this is an office," she went on distractedly. "Makes me imagine a woman in a suit bringing another in-"

"Ilia."

"And then the interview gets steamy-"

"Are you really this horny, or is it just nerves talking?"

"Nerves," she answered. "Definitely nerves. This… This could go really, really bad for us."

He didn't need to be told that, not when he knew and certainly not when he was trying to build up his confidence. He needed encouragement, damn it – and to hell with how real it was!

"It's the only way I can think to keep the factions in check."

"I know. I don't think the plan is bad. I'm just nervous."

"You're not the one who has to do it…"

"Your fault for going without a mask," she said. "Otherwise you could have made Yuma do this wearing a blonde wig and no one would know. It's Jaune Arc now. Everyone knows your face."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't exactly a planned out thing."

"Well, you should have planned better."

"How was I meant to plan Adam attacking me!?"

Jaune forced himself back onto the chair and took several deep breaths. This was fine. The risk was honestly super low, and aside from embarrassment he would be safe. The others had much harder tasks and a lot more riding on their shoulders. _They're actual terrorists, though. Aside from Sun, they all made up their minds and chose this life. I didn't._

"Camera's up." Ilia said. "Projector is also up. Please tell me this isn't a PowerPoint moment."

"It's not. I don't see what your issue with them is, anyway. It went down well."

"Yeah, and so did Trifa's mood when you splashed her ass to everyone."

Ilia came over and pulled out the low office chair next to his, collapsing into it and pressing a button on the remote. The projector was attached to a portable computer, and it was only a few taps of the keys to bring up a live feed of the city, the view of which was splashed onto the grey fabric.

The Vytal Festival Pre-Show was underway.

When most people thought of the Vytal Festival they thought of the fighting, the tournament. There was a good reason for that, and good reason the cities hyped it up – it drew viewers. The reality of the festival was a diplomatic affair, however, with the tournament used to reward people for sitting through the other parts. There was a pre-show, an opening ceremony, the parade, and all that before you got to the tournament and could cheer and gamble on hormonal teenagers kicking one another's faces in.

A true gentleman's sport.

_Huh. I never really thought about that before. What does the fact we like watching that say about us?_

Eh. Probably nothing too bad. It was only weird when you considered that Pyrrha Nikos was a star of the tournament scene _before_ Beacon, which meant there was a thriving competitive scene where _preteens_ fought with live weaponry for the entertainment of a crowd. Nothing like seeing someone beat an eleven-year-old child into submission with a sledgehammer, rocket-launcher combo. Nicholas Arc never let them watch tournaments for some reason. Kept saying if he had to be the one person on Remnant who wasn't a freaking psychopath, then so be it.

"Pre-show isn't as good as the opening ceremony," Ilia said, cracking out a small packet of popcorn she'd taken from the vending machine downstairs. She held the packet out for him to grab a handful of. Non-salted. Heathen. "The opening ceremony is when the other Kingdoms are there, and then it's one big dick measuring contest."

"Huh. I didn't think you'd be interested in those."

Ilia punched his arm. "I am when they're fireworks, floats and cultural dances."

"Dances?"

"On the parade," she explained. "Vytal is all about showing off the different cultures so you have shows that are unique to every Kingdom. It's really cool. Not that Vale does any dancing, Vale is so vanilla, but Vacuo and Atlas do."

"Which is better?"

"Vacuo," she said instantly. "Atlas is a cold place, so their dancing is done in furs. Vacuo, though." Ilia leaned forward and started to gesticulate. "They wear these amazing veils that cover the lower halves of their faces and bodies, but they keep their bellies bare and the way they move… ah, it's like I'm being hypnotised by a bellybutton."

"Are we still talking about the dancing here…?"

"Ahem. Of course. It's a cultural thing. You wouldn't understand."

"Sure." He'd pretend he believed that. "What about Menagerie?"

Ilia's smile fell. "Menagerie isn't invited. We're not considered a real Kingdom."

"Seriously!?"

"Hm. It's not because we're faunus. For once," she added under her breath. "I think it's more to do with how long we've been around and the fact we don't have an academy. We're seen more as a large independent settlement than a proper Kingdom, like what Mountain Glenn would have been. It probably doesn't help that Menagerie is tied with the White Fang, too."

Well, that wasn't so bad. He'd thought it was pure racism for a moment, maybe showing he was getting too keen to lump everything under that umbrella. The Four Kingdoms had been a thing as far as back as history could remember, which did raise the question of what a fifth would need to do to be recognised. He wondered if Menagerie even wanted to be. There would probably be a lot of good to being given that kind of title, but then if they were an official Kingdom then the others might start putting pressure on them for harbouring known terrorists.

From what Yuma and Trifa had told him of the place, Menagerie sounded rather peaceful. Tropical and relaxed with plenty of fishing, warm weather and people genuinely being quite happy, especially since being an island meant less Grimm. At least on the land. Children could roam the island as they wished without fear, whereas even in somewhere relatively safe like Ansel, they were told never to enter the forests nearby without an escort.

A lot of the faunus living in Menagerie were those who had given up on Remnant, or the other kingdoms. They'd given up on equality and decided to take Mantle's old suggestion of being extradited to an island, self-isolating themselves in the hopes of making a better life. Adam hated that attitude, though Jaune had less to think on it. Not everyone could, or wanted, to fight back.

"Do you think Sienna would want Menagerie recognised?"

"I don't think it's Sienna's call to make. That's more Ghira and Kali Belladonna."

The name tickled his ears. "Blake's parents?"

"Hmhm. They'd like you."

"You sure? Blake hates me."

"That would only make Ghira like you more. No chance of you corrupting his little girl, and you did the most important thing."

Jaune sighed. "Killed Adam?"

"Killed Adam," she confirmed. "They never did like him, especially when Blake brought him home to introduce him to them. Apparently, he got into a big fight with Ghira, called him a coward and said something about how humans would understand what equality meant when they, too, had suffered as faunus have. It didn't go down well."

"Sounds like Adam alright…"

"Shh. Shh." Ilia shovelled popcorn into her mouth. "It's starting!"

/-/

"-and now we have the welcoming speech from Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon, whose fine students will be competing in the upcoming Vytal Festival." Lisa Lavender smiled at the camera and panned her attention to the man on the stage, her cameraman doing the same before giving her the thumbs up that she could relax.

Finally. Lisa let the microphone fall to her side, even if she didn't allow the same of her painted and fake smile. Everyone expected female newscasters to be smiling and pretty at all times and she was no exception. Her purple dress was neatly pressed, her hair sparkling with not a strand out of place. Normally, she'd be craving a cigarette and a drink by now – dry throat was common on long days casting – but today, it was harder to keep her smile from slipping into a much more feral one.

The headmaster stood upon a stage with a large display set behind him portraying him larger scale for those too far back to see. He stood in his dark green suit and scarf, his hair messy and cane touched down to the floor. An eccentric and well-respected figure that was by now as much a part of the scenery of Vale as the CCT Tower or Emerald Forest were. Lisa could hardly remember a time where he hadn't been in charge of Beacon.

Raising his hand, he smiled in a way that seemed directed at everyone in the crowd, silencing them immediately. He always had good stage presence. Lisa could admire that, especially how relaxed and in control he looked. No word was ever rushed from him, no facial expression wasted. There wasn't a person in Vale she didn't have _some _scoop on, but Ozpin was squeaky clean, at least as far as she could tell. No one was truly innocent. You learned that soon enough in the news industry.

"Thank you." Ozpin said. "And welcome. It comes again that the Vytal Festival shall celebrate the peace brought to our Kingdoms, and we are honoured this year to host it in the beautiful city of Vale." People clapped and cheered, and Ozpin waited them out patiently. Once they were done, he continued. "Soon, we shall welcome the other Kingdoms. I hope you will all join me in extending the hand of friendship to our staunch allies, as they have when we visit their lands. We are made stronger through co-operation, and the Vytal Festival stands as a reminder of that."

"War, poverty, Grimm. Each are challenges that would push humanity to the brink of extinction, and yet we rise above thanks to the bonds we have. That is proof, if there can be no other, that the way forward, the future, lays not in conflict, but in working together for the betterment of all. I hope that this is something you will all keep in mind in the coming days, months and years. Though we may come from different lands, though we may see the world differently and be born of differing cultures, we are all the same at the end of the day. We are all united against the challenges Remnant might throw toward us, and together – working as one – we shall overcome and surpass them."

A miniscule click sounded behind Lisa's ear. Her hand swept up to brush the hair from it, ghosting over and activating the _second_ headset she had worn. One connected to her producers back in the office, but the second went to an altogether different location.

"_It's time."_

Lisa licked her lips. It had been _years_ since she felt so excited.

The large screen behind Ozpin went black suddenly, flicking off as though the power were cut. The crowd murmured, curious but not overly concerned by what could have been a simple technical fault. Lisa knew better and indicated for her cameraman to keep rolling. Come flood, famine or feast, he wouldn't stop. Not when there was a story to tell.

The screen flickered and blurred, snapped and connected elsewhere – the backdoor access she'd provided breaking through the encryption placed on the agency they'd used for the pre-show, which just so happened to be the biggest news agency in Vale. Her own. Already, her producers were going wild in her ear, not at her, but demanding someone get down to tech and sort it out, ordering the contingency feeds to be put in place, new cameras to be accessed. They thought it a simple glitch or tripped wire unplugging a camera feeding to the screen.

The sudden appearance of Jaune Arc's face proved otherwise. The crowd gasped and pointed, which gave Ozpin all the clues he needed to step away and turn around, cane clicking on the floor as he looked up at the gargantuan face of a wanted criminal.

_This is it,_ Lisa thought hungrily. _The moment of your revolution. Or the moment it crashes and burns._

"Which will it be, Jaune? Only you can decide…"

/-/

A lot of Beacon's students were ignoring the pre-show. It wasn't important to them, or not nearly as important as training for the chance to qualify and compete in the actual tournament. Those that were did so from the common rooms, comfortable communal rooms set between corridors of the dorms and full of chairs, tables and even a pool table and some vending machines. They were normally relaxed and informal (except late at night where they were a common make out spot for couples). Coco _wished_ everyone was making out right now. Would have made things less awkward.

"That's the guy you flirted with!"

Coco was used to embarrassing Velvet and washing her best friend light up like a Christmas tree. Less so to it being the other way around and having everyone swivel their heads to stare her way. She kicked Velvet under the table.

"It's also the guy I talked to, walked next to, competed against, breathed the same air as, helped an innocent faunus with, reformed the fashion industry with, threatened to arrest if he went evil and trained a team to fight against!" she whined. "Can't we pick one of _those_ things to refer to him and me with…?"

"And you kissed him!"

"Velveeeeet!"

"_Wow." _Someone whispered._ "I guess it's true girls like bad guys."_

"_-didn't think she liked guys at all."_

"_Wait, didn't this guy cross dress a few times. You think…?"_

"_Maybe…"_

Coco glared harder at Velvet, pinching a chunk of skin on her arm and twisting it viciously. She'd spent years cultivating a rep at Beacon, thank you very much. She didn't need her teammate ripping it to shreds for her.

"What do you think he's doing?" someone who deserved a backbreaking hug asked.

"Good question!" Coco yelled. "Very good question. Let's focus on that question!"

"Shut up already!" Blake shouted from the front. The rest of Team RWBY looked more embarrassed than angry, but Blake was Blake and would do Blake things. "He's about to make his demands. Something horrible, no doubt. The White Fang was never this bad before _he_ took over."

Fox leaned over to whisper in Coco's ear. "Is she alright in the head?"

"No," she fired back. "Don't get involved, trust me. It's not worth the mental gymnastics."

Still, it was a fair question to raise. If Jaune Arc had before kept to helping people and tyring to avoid comparisons between what he did and the harsher actions of the White Fang before him, then what was he doing here? This had all the hallmarks of something dangerous. Coco watched with bated breath, fingernails digging into her armrest.

/-/

Sienna sat with one elbow on the armrest of her own throne, her chin planted upon her fist and a slow smile curling up the corners of her lips. Beside and around her stood numerous members of the White Fang, along with the Albain brothers, currently watching the screen in awe. Those who had most detracted from her newest protégé were also in attendance, silent and introspective where they would have normally been ranting and arguing that he didn't go far enough, wasn't pushing their message hard or lacked spine.

Now, they were silent, and Sienna withheld a chuckle.

It was time for Adam's replacement to show them what he was made of.

/-/

Ozpin remained calm.

He always had and always would, only showing the merest surprise in the slow rise of a single eyebrow. Whilst marginally unexpected, the intrusion was nothing he hadn't experienced worse of before, and certainly wasn't an immediate _threat_, despite the anxiety in the crowd. To act out would only be to make them panic, and that could cause a stampede that might trample people.

The world watched him for a reaction, and so Ozpin calmly placed both hands atop his cane, looked up at the face of a young boy and said, "A rather rude interruption, Mr Arc. I was in the middle of a speech."

In the dumbfounded silence, he heard some people titter and laugh. That was good. An immediate defusal of the tension that might have led to outright panic. Now, he could only hope this man, this terrorist, did not undo all his work.

"_You have my apology, good sir. Your speech was an inspirational one."_

Ozpin's second eyebrow rose. The way he was speaking seemed awfully put on. Forced. Much like someone would when performing on a stage to hide their nerves. It was overly slow and polite, unnatural in its delivery but, he would guess, better for something like this. Better than hearing a seventeen-year-old boy speak, anyway.

"_It was a speech so inspirational that I just had to share my thoughts."_

"I see. And do you criticise my speech, Jaune Arc of the White Fang?"

"_Not at all. You are one of the few who appears to mean what they say. Beacon stands firm in accepting people from all walks of life and treating them equally. Your teams do their best to protect the people, not only human but faunus as well."_

Ozpin nodded, pleased despite who was saying it. A compliment from an enemy was no less genuine, and equality was something he had done his best to perpetuate. This silly racism was such a waste of time and held the Kingdoms back when they could be focusing on the Grimm. You really would have thought murderous monsters killing everyone they came across would force some unity into people, but no, they still found their ways to hate one another.

"Beacon does its best," he said politely.

"_It does. And effort should be recognised where it exists. The White Fang recognises the good that Beacon does, that many of the academies do. Your huntsmen protect all people, as is their job, as is their responsibility. However,"_ his voice boomed, _"the same cannot be said outside of your vaunted halls."_

Vaunted halls? My, Mr Arc certainly was reading from the thesaurus lately. He was clearly nervous, painfully obvious to Ozpin's experienced eyes. The way the boy moved his hands as he spoke, the way he spoke deeply and slowly like he had planned the words out in advance. To him, it was obvious, but he could just imagine those in the audience believing it charisma.

"_War, poverty, Grimm. You spoke of those earlier as aspects that hold humanity back, but I would add two more – prejudice and corruption. The petty hate that has the faunus species treated as second class citizens, and the greed that allows those in control to weaken the Kingdoms in order to line their own pockets."_

"_At a time where, as you say, we should all be working together, we instead find ourselves at one another's throats – and for what reason? Because of ears and tails? Will we judge people by the colour of their skin next? The colour of their eyes? Their hair? Whether they are left or right handed? You speak of the great work that the Kingdoms have done, but aside from the work that Beacon has done, I see very little. Unequal laws, impossible working conditions, abuse of power and rampant corruption. We have exposed but a facsimile of this."_

"A facet," Ozpin said politely. "You mean a facet."

"_The White Fang will no longer stand for it!"_ Jaune Arc said, bravely pushing on. _"In the past weeks we have brought to light but an example of what I speak of here, but now – we go further."_

The screen changed suddenly, split in three by vertical lines. Ozpin's eyes narrowed as each showed an individual tied up and held by masked figures. It had the hallmarks of a summary execution and Ozpin gripped his cane. This could go so badly.

His eyes were drawn by the masks, however. Those… were not White Fang. The White Fang masks were distinctive in their red and white design depicting Grimm, as a reminder of their hatred but also showing their inhuman nature. The faunus argued it was to show that humanity treated them like they were inhuman, but detractors simply said it was proof they were right to do so, because if faunus wanted to act like Grimm they should be hunted like them.

These masks were different. They were white all over and covered not only the eyes, but also came down the sides of the mouths to the chin. The individual's lips could be seen, but not their noses. The masks also lacked any Grimm markings, and instead featured red markings that looked like conical spirals reaching out from their eyes to their hairline. Tribal markings, almost. They looked exotic and unique, but non-threatening.

It gave Ozpin some small hope. If this were to execute prisoners, why change the masks?

"_A police chief taking bribes from Roman Torchwick."_ Jaune Arc's voice spoke over the images. _"Numerous crimes swept under the rug for the promise of lien. Robbery, assault, even violent muggings that have left their victims – human and faunus both – with lifechanging injuries."_

"_A business that targets the faunus and forces them into impossible contracts. They have ties to Vale's own unemployment offices, who send faunus without work to employ with them, where they are abused and used for minimum wages, no guaranteed hours and with no hope of advancement. Their accident reports are an interesting read. Hundreds of faunus critically injured or killed due to poor health and safety, and not a single investigation by the Council of Vale."_

Some in the crowd began to mutter angrily. Ozpin could not blame them, and if it were true then he would gladly pin those responsible to the wall. If only he didn't have to run Beacon and fight Salem, he would have loved to dedicate his life to it.

Someone else had beaten him to it. And now Vale looked the fools.

"_And finally, a judge and justice placed into his position by Vale's leaders. A just and honest man who, by duty and law, must be above all others. A man who used his connections to take over his own son's legal case, exonerating him from drink-driving and running down a young family of two, killing them instantly. It is not the only case he has ruled over where close friends have been the accused, and not a one has been found guilty despite the crushing evidence."_

Well played, Mr Arc. Well played indeed. And Ozpin would personally share a little nod for the fact he hadn't stated whether the family killed were faunus or human. It mattered not to him, of course, but some out there would see it as `less important` if it were faunus. A disgusting attitude to be sure, but something he knew was true.

"And what," Ozpin shouted over the noise. "Will be done with these people? Guilty as you may claim they are, Vale has its own laws and would see them charged and tried in a court of law. You cannot take the law into your own hands."

"_You are correct, Ozpin. As one just man to another, I would hand them over to you. Would you see them given their day in court?"_

He'd have to now, wouldn't he? Exceptionally well played – especially putting him in a spot where he could do nothing but accept. Even more, he'd have to personally make sure nothing shady went on in those cases, because if it did and the media picked up on it (and he knew they would be digging) then it would blow up in his face.

"I promise you that they shall, Mr Arc. I promise you this."

"_Then they shall be delivered to you by the White Fang. We are not judge, jury and executioner. We are not the law. We are citizens of Vale as every person here is, and we shall do what we must to protect our home. On that note."_ His voice rose to address the crowd. _"I have a message for everyone in attendance. That message is thus: fear not the White Fang. We are not here to kill or harm those who live in Vale. We are not here to sow chaos or ruin your lives. We are here to fight for equality, be that to the faunus OR to humans. We will not stand by as anyone is taken advantage of."_

"_Today, the Vale sect of the White Fang lay down the masks of an old generation and pick up new ones. These masks represent our commitment to ridding Vale of darkness, whatever form it might take. Criminals, unscrupulous businesses, corrupt politicians and crooked police officers. Be they human or faunus or anything in between, we will fight them. As Huntsmen protect the cities from the threat from without, so shall we protect people from the threats that lay within." _ He thumped his fist against his chest. _"A new dawn for the White Fang!"_

Cunning.

In distinguishing his White Fang from the mainstream variety, he both covered himself from any harm the more violent sects did while also setting himself up for a potential leadership struggle further down the line. There would be some who might question if Jaune Arc's way wasn't better than Sienna Khan's. Ozpin wasn't sure what to make of that. There was a quiet part of his mind that pointed out that supplanting Sienna with this young man _might_ be a good idea. If it forced all the White Fang to act this way, it could only benefit the Kingdoms.

On the other hand, they still didn't know what his ultimate goal was. One thing was for sure, though, with the way the crowd was reacting – not cheering, not for a terrorist, but also not booing or insulting him. They were silent. Contemplative – he had to know more.

"A very interesting speech, Mr Arc, but quite cowardly to do it from the safety of some hidden locale. Wouldn't it carry much more weight if you were to come out in person and stand beside me?"

"_Ah, well, I would…"_ The voice faltered for a moment. Only a moment. _"However, I'm not sure of the reception I would receive from the city of Vale. To come out and be beaten down would not help anyone, nor would for you and your huntsmen to attack me."_

Ozpin could have laughed. Too easy. "It is decided, then! The Opening Ceremony takes place in two weeks' time, and I invite you as my guest. I shall personally ensure your safety while you attend, while also offering you the freedom to leave afterwards. If you are content to make grand proclamations like this, then I'm sure you are content to step out into the sunlight."

The silence was telling. The silence left behind by his offer, but also the silence of the crowd awaiting an answer, awaiting to see whether this man – this faunus – was all talk and no action. Words were cheap. They always had been.

On the screen, Jaune Arc bowed his head.

"_I humbly and most graciously accept. Our prisoners will be delivered to Beacon shortly. Good day, and to all, please enjoy the festivities. The Vytal Festival stands for us all – human and faunus alike."_

The screen went black a moment later.

/-/

"It wasn't bad!" Ilia assured him.

"Cringe! Cringe! Cringe!" Jaune huddled in a ball on the floor, knees against his chest and arms wrapped around his knees. "Argh. I sounded like a tool! I sounded like an idiot! That was so damn cringeworthy!"

"Okay, it was a little bit, but it got the point across. Lisa's backdoor access really came through."

It had, and the show… well, he'd have to wait and see the fallout before knowing whether it was taken poorly or not. Lisa had promised to spin it in his favour on her news show, but she'd warned him the others – especially in Atlas – would be doggedly against even if he solved world hunger, eradicated all Grimm and brought about immortality for all.

That didn't stop him feeling like an idiot. Even if everyone else thought he'd been heroic or amazing, he wasn't going to be able to see so much as a picture of himself on that screen without wishing the ground would open him up.

_Oh man, and what are mom and dad going to think? My sisters will be laughing their asses off._

Or plotting his demise. Either or. Ugh. He didn't want to have that meeting anytime soon, and luckily as a wanted terrorist he wouldn't have to. Then there was Sienna, not to mention the members of the White Fang. Would this declaration of war be enough to satisfy the radicals? He hoped so. Even if he hadn't declared war on Vale or humans, he'd declared war on corruption – and they were smart enough to know that'd be mostly human employers. Mostly. They'd have to go after any corrupt faunus, too, just to prove their honesty.

This wasn't part of his original plan for convincing people he _wasn't_ part of the White Fang. In fact, he'd basically gone and started his own. A kinder White Fang, though. A less criminal one. That, at least, was working out as he wanted it to.

_If I can get it stable and accepted by the people of Vale, I can leave it in Ilia's hands and step down. No jail, no criminal record and no being hunted down by huntsmen. Just go home, crawl into bed and forget this crap ever happened._

If Adam let him.

* * *

**Could have called them the "White Knights" to really embrace the Code Geass theme. Damn it, Coeur, no. You promised to stop reminding yourself of every little similarity. Now go plan a way for Coco to get into a giant robot. No, wait…**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 6****th**** October**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	24. Chapter 24

**Ignore the troll spamming offensive reviews as usual**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 24**

* * *

"A toast!" Yuma said, placing a coin against Vendi-chan. It slipped in and a can of soda _ka-chunk_'ed its way to the bottom. "To the White Fang!"

"To the White Fang!" the rest echoed.

"To the White Fang," Jaune whined, still more than a little emasculated from seeing playbacks of himself all evening. They weren't bad, at least not as bad as he was making it out to be, but like anyone forced to watch your parents playing back videos of you as a child, he wished he could bury his head under a blanket and never come out.

It got the job done, though. The White Fang were at that moment waiting around a large TV set for the nine o'clock news to come on, with what was promised to be an in-depth interview about his actions that day. Embarrassment or not, knowing whether he was any closer to proving his innocence in the eyes of the general public was important.

_Proving my innocence by declaring myself leader of a new White Fang. I'm really going about this backwards._ Not like there was anything he could do now, or anything he could have ever done once the White Fang decided he was their boss. If he'd tried to leave, they might have killed him. Knowing them as he did now, he didn't think they would have, but hindsight was 20-20 and there was always the chance Sienna Khan or someone more radical would have ordered them to.

"It's coming! It's coming!" Deery said excitedly.

Perry couldn't resist. "That's what your mom said!"

Deery punched his arm so hard he cried and slumped to the side, but the rest of them only ignored him as they usually did and leaned in, drinks at the ready, snacks mostly consumed and volume turned up to a solid and mildly infuriating 33. Jaune resisted the urge to request it be set to 32 or 34 like a civilised person.

The screen flooded blue and the logo of the Vale news appeared, followed quickly by the four-piece Amity symbol. Soon after, Lisa Lavender was shown on set, smiling prettily for the camera in her finely pressed purple suit.

"_Good evening, and welcome, to the Vale Nine O'clock news. Today's big news; the Vytal Festival comes to Vale, the welcoming ceremony is crashed by Jaune Arc of the White Fang, and a dog with three legs plays ping-pong for charity." _

"Like, with the paddle in its mouth?" Yuma asked.

"Shhh!"

"How would that work?"

"Yuma!"

"Who was he playing against?"

"_Our big story of the day, though. The new White Fang: friend or foe. After the recent death of violent extremist Adam Taurus, the White Fang operating in Vale were taken over by Valean citizen Jaune Arc of Ansel. Ever since then, the White Fang's actions have been polarising, with some calling them a breath of fresh air and others referring to them as biding their time and waiting to show their true colours. Tonight, we have several experts among us. May I welcome Bartholomew Oobleck, historian and Beacon professor, General Ironwood of Atlas, who joins us via conference call, and local police chief and Captain of the VPD, Miranda Ash. Thank you all for coming."_

"Hates us. Hates us." Trifa pointed to Oobleck. "Maybe doesn't hate us?"

"_General Ironwood, why don't you start us off. What do you think of Jaune Arc's proclamation?"_

"_What is there to think?"_ Ironwood posed. _"He is a terrorist leader of a terrorist organisation – a supremacist group who have time and time again proven their true colours. You can change the mask, you can change the man at the top, but the White Fang will remain the White Fang."_

"_By that metric,"_ Oobleck interrupted. _"No one could ever change. By that same argument, we must assume Atlas is the same autocratic and suppressive nation it was before the colour revolution. Actions speak louder than words, and so far, the White Fang's actions under its new leadership have been a positive force."_

"_Their actions are to break the law,"_ Miranda Ash pointed out. _"Whether or not they are done with good intention, they are vigilantes. Law should be left to the legal system."_

"_The same legal system which was recently shown to have a corrupt officer and a nepotistic judge?"_ Lisa asked sweetly. The police chief clammed up, face burning red. In the warehouse, the White Fang hollered and laughed, clinking cans together and whistling at Lisa. _"It seems to me that if it weren't for the White Fang exposing those two cases, innocent people would be in danger. Even now, the judge's cases are being looked back over and several new cases are being brought forward in light of evidence that appears to have been… ignored."_

"_Mistakes happen."_ Ironwood said. _"Power corrupts. The White Fang are clearly trying to secure favour and positive coverage through these actions, but that does not absolve them of their previous crimes. You cannot simply wash away the wrong that has been done."_

They argued back and forth for a good five minutes, Lisa prodding and poking to keep the discussion going. To outsiders, it must have looked like she was just doing her job, but it was hard for Jaune not to notice how she leaned on their side, tempering Ironwood's harsher points by aiming the blame at Adam, butting down the police's points by drawing attention to their poor track record. Whenever Oobleck said something, she would just nod and hum like he was revealing the universe's secrets.

"_And what about their leader?"_ she asked after a few more minutes. _"Jaune Arc is the new face of the White Fang, at least in Vale, and he appears determined to pull the group away from their questionable past."_

"_A force for change,"_ Oobleck said.

"_A coward trying to escape punishment,"_ Ironwood said.

"_A criminal."_ Miranda finished. _"Nothing more."_

"_Ah, but I meant what do we think of him as a person."_ Lisa said. _"As an individual he has tempered the White Fang's actions, reduced their body count to zero, exposed corruption within the SDC, VPD and even the fashion industry, and he's done all of that without harming a single innocent. As Doctor Oobleck said earlier, actions speak louder than words, and it seems to me – and many of the general public – that Jaune Arc is changing the White Fang for good. Shouldn't that be encouraged? Or do you, General Ironwood, want to force them back to the way they were? That seems like a dangerous wish, especially in our fair city."_

"_I do not want them to return to violence, Lisa, but I also do not want our allies to be caught off guard when he shows his true colours. Many a sociopath through history has feigned kindness to lure people in."_

Atlas wasn't going to be a friend, then. That much was obvious. Jaune didn't think he'd ever seen someone so determined to hate him, and without even meeting him. Ilia had warned him, but he'd really dared to hope. It wasn't like a whole Kingdom could dislike you without evidence, right? Apparently, they could, and very much so.

"It's Ironwood," Yuma said. "He'd hate us if we killed every Grimm on Remnant. Might as well ask Jacques Schnee to promote a faunus beyond slave labour."

"_We've heard from our experts,"_ Lisa said. _"But now we have some members of the public who have called in to share their own perspectives. Our first caller is Margery from Mistral. Margery, you're live. What do you think of Jaune Arc?"_

"_Well, Lisa, I think he's an absolute dish is what I think!"_

Jaune blinked.

Perry snickered.

"_A dish?"_ Lisa asked, confused.

"_Absolutely. I want those baby blue eyes looking up at me from between my le-"_

"_Moving on!"_ Lisa was all smiles and all professionalism despite hammering her finger down on the end call button. _"Our next caller comes in from Vale and calls himself Mr S. Flare. Mr Flare. Are you there?"_

"_I'm here_," a voice that was so obviously Sun said. _"I just want to say that Jaune looks like a total bro. I was a little unsure myself, but he's gone out his way to help people and you've gotta respect that. People can look back at what the White Fang did before him all they like, but that's like blaming a son for the actions of the father."_

"_Very well put, Mr Flare. Do our experts have anything to say there?"_

"_Idealistic,"_ Ironwood said. _"Jaune Arc would not be in command unless he'd been with the White Fang even when they committed great crimes."_

"_I disagree," _Oobleck said. _"We have no evidence to support what you are saying, General, and in fact it's been found he attended a high school in his village for the last six years, so he could not have been."_

"_The school was obviously a cover."_

"_It's in a settlement village with no White Fang activity."_

"_No `detected` activity, Doctor."_

"_Okay. Okay. Our next caller also comes in from Vale and is called Blaise. Blaise, what are your thoughts?"_

"_Ahem."_ A feminine voice coughed. _"I think Jaune Arc is pure evil-"_

"Blake?" Ilia asked.

"Blake," Trifa confirmed.

"It's Blake," Yuma agreed.

"_Blake…?"_ Doctor Oobleck asked on screen.

"_N-No. I don't know who this `Blake` is. My name is Blaise and I think-"_ Her words were interrupted by the sound of a scuffle, fighting and someone growling `Get the scroll, Ruby` before `Blaise` yelled back, _"Don't fall for his lies! He's evil incarnate! He wants to kill your children-click. Beep. Beep. Beep."_

Jaune sat with his head in his hands. Ilia wasn't any better.

"_Well,"_ Lisa Lavender said with a little laugh. _"I think that was quite the extreme caller."_

"_No, no, I think she makes a valid point."_

"_You would,_" Oobleck told Ironwood.

"_Our final caller is a bit of a late addition pushed through our systems,"_ Lisa said. _"Can I welcome on Juniper Arc, Jaune Arc's own mother."_

Jaune froze.

"_Juniper. What do you-?"_

"_Jaune!"_ His mom snapped. _"Jaune, I know you're watching this. What are you doing? Are you insane? Young man, you will call me within the next twenty-four hours, or I swear I will come to Vale, find you and tan your hide so hard you cough out a lung! I AM NOT JOKING, JAUNE SYLVER ARC, YOU WILL CALL ME OR YOU WILL REGRET CRAWLING OUT MY WOMB!"_

The call clicked off.

All eyes turned to him.

"So," Yuma said slowly. "Need to borrow my scroll?"

/-/

The coverage hadn't stopped by the next morning. His face was splashed all over the newspapers across Vale, and the messages varied. To some, he was a bright light. To others, a monster. One even had a four page spread trying to decipher exactly what kind of faunus he was, with several specialists discussing his apparent lack of features and what that might mean.

So far, the leading theory was that his features were ones not commonly shown on the head or as a tail, and the ideas that he was a fish faunus were coming thick and fast, hiding either scales, a dorsal fin or some other trait under his clothes. No one had suggested he might _not_ be a faunus, because only a delusional person could think that.

According to the White Fang, it was a victory. Ilia assured him that Sienna thought the same. Jaune wasn't sure what it was to him. Here he was, the centre of attention and finally having a _chance_ to prove himself as good as his word, but all he'd really done was up the stakes. There was more weight on his shoulders than there had been before, and no chance of fading into obscurity once this was all over.

"If it ever ends…"

"That you, Jaune?" Ilia swung down from the hammock she'd strung in the corner of the warehouse kitchen, landed on bare feet and then padded over to her shoes, stepping into them. The others were still asleep, resting off the celebrations of the night before. Since several of them technically had covers and the right to go out and shop, they'd brought crates of beer and takeout. Jaune stuck to soda. "Did you ever call your mom in the end? She sounded pretty angry."

"Was thinking of doing it today."

"Hm? That sounds like a thinking of putting it off as long as I can kind of thing. Waiting will only make it worse."

"I know, I know. I'll do it today, I promise."

"Fair enough." Ilia hooked her hands behind her head and walked with him out the kitchen into the main warehouse. He wished they could go outside but his face was too well known. The best they could do was stand by one of the open windows and watch the city outside bustle on. "I spoke to Sienna last night," Ilia said suddenly. "It was taken fairly well. The radicals aren't entirely convinced, but they've calmed down a little and stopped questioning everything you do. It helps that you made it sound like a fight. That's all they want, to be able to crack _someone's_ head open."

They really didn't sound like the kind of people he wanted to be pleasing. "Did anyone mind the masks?"

"Probably some. The old masks have a lot of history behind them and no one likes going against tradition, even when tradition is stupid. It's the old crowd complaining about the masks. The conservatives."

"Conservative voices among terrorists. How bizarre."

"Not conservative as you know it. Think old fogeys complaining that in _their day_ they'd have taken the fight to the humans personally. In their day White Fang fought on the battlefield, not on television or catwalks." Ilia rolled her eyes. "They're just complaining for the sake of it. I don't think anyone cares if you change our uniforms as long as we're still called the White Fang."

He'd honestly thought about changing that. The name evoked fear and was a reminder of what they were, and he'd wondered if there couldn't be a nicer name for them. In the end he'd decided against it, not because he predicted the blowback – he hadn't – but because he couldn't think of a decent name. Though give how Ironwood was the night before, maybe it was best he hadn't because people weren't so dumb as to be fooled by a generic name change.

"What's the plan today?" she asked.

"There isn't one."

"Ah. Too much heat, I guess. You want to stay low and let people make up their own minds about is before doing another raid. I get it." Well, he'd just not had anything planned, but that sounded like a good excuse to be bone idle. "We'll have to do something before the week is up, though. Can't sit still for too long or people will think we're all talk."

"I'll ask Lisa to source some targets for us."

"More of the same?"

"We need to prove ourselves, don't we? No point changing what works."

Ilia laughed. "True. Alright, that's good for me. I'm going to go work on the forums. There's this commentor with a super cute profile pic I want to get to know better."

"You realise it's probably a fifty year old man, right?"

"Let me have my fantasies."

"Hey," Perry called from the entranceway to the kitchen. "I'm going into town for a shopping run. Anyone want any stuff brought back fill in the list by the door and I'll get it done."

"Bring booze!" Yuma yelled tiredly.

"And tampons, please!" Trifa called.

"Ewwwww!"

"Oh fuck off, it's a natural bodily function."

/-/

"_You let one of your teachers speak in favour of the White Fang on national television_!" Ironwood ranted through the screen. _"What are you thinking!?"_

Currently, he was thinking that James ought to wipe the spit off the screen as it was rather distracting, but Ozpin assumed he meant his question in the past tense. Sighing, he picked up his mug and sipped, savouring the blend within and wishing he could take more time with it. Alas, James was not one to be made to wait.

"My employees are their own people, James. I do not place limits on what they wish to do outside of school hours. It rather bothers me that you think I would." Another sip and a quiet sigh. "As for Bartholomew, I feel he did an excellent job maintaining calm in our city, something I can't say the same for you over. Do you _want_ the White Fang to act as they have before?"

"_No! Of course not! But you can't trust them!"_

"I'm not exactly giving Mr Arc my bank details, am I?"

"_No. You invited him on stage for the opening ceremony!"_

"Yes, and if he should try anything untoward, he will be _surrounded_ by people capable of bringing him down. And then you shall have your proof that he is as bad as his predecessors, at which point I shall let you have him."

"_At which point? Not before?"_

"Not before," he agreed firmly. "I have given the man my word and I won't have you or anyone else breaking it. That is not up for debate. Ask yourself, James, for all the bad you may think him capable of, whether you are right or wrong, would you prefer Jaune Arc in command, or Adam Taurus?"

"_Adam Taurus."_ Ironwood's immediate answer brought a tired sigh. _"At least with him, we knew what we were up against. This will end poorly, Ozpin. Mark my words. I'm pleased that at least one caller last night seemed to recognise that, but apart from Blaise, your city has lost its marbles!"_

Ozpin didn't have the heart to tell him Blaise was ex-White Fang herself. He just couldn't.

"Hmm. We will see. Whatever the case, I have given him my word and I won't see Vale be the ones to break it. I shall expect you to be on your best behaviour. Anything less, and I will personally intervene."

"_He'll have his moment. After, I'll stop at nothing to hunt him down."_

The call flicked off and Ozpin sighed. James really was a wonderful ally to have and a good friend, but he was just so focused. The old adage of a dog and his bone had never applied to someone more than it did Ironwood. When that focus was fixated on protecting innocent people, he was a paragon of virtue. To have it changed like this, well, it was a bother and a half.

"Nice to see Jimmy sounds as fun as ever."

"He's under a lot of pressure, Qrow." Ozpin made to sip his coffee but balked at the raised eyebrow. "Sorry, automatic response. You know I like to defend my allies. Yes, he's being ridiculous and we both know it. That doesn't matter. He is still our ally. Have you had any fortune tracking down Jaune Arc?"

"None. He's either a master of disguise or I'm the unluckiest man alive."

Ozpin wasn't sure how to respond. "I see…"

"Aren't you going to ask me the same question you did him?"

"I hadn't planned on it," he admitted. "But very well. Would you prefer Jaune Arc or Adam Taurus?"

"Sienna Khan," Qrow said instead. "Because Daaamn, I want to see if those stripes are real or not."

Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn't sure why he'd asked. Qrow's particular brand of humour aside, he was confident in saying Qrow would rather have Jaune Arc. Most people would be. There was a very real chance he _was_ planning something big and that it would be bad for Vale, but even if that was the case his final blow would come on the battlefield of public opinion. That could be just as, if not more, devastating than war on the streets, but only if your objective was to win one way or the other.

That was what Ironwood so often forgot. Victory here wasn't stamping out the White Fang or defending the rights of Vale. Maybe it was for the Council and those businesses who profited off the status quo, but Ozpin's goal had always been to prepare Remnant to defend itself against the Grimm. That did involve stopping White Fang attacks that would weaken the city and create negativity, hence why they'd always been active enemies, but the overall goal of better rights for faunus wasn't something he was against.

In all honesty, if the faunus had decided to treat humanity lesser citizens after the faunus wars then he wouldn't have cared too much either. Yes, it would have been abhorrent, and he'd have fought for equality on the other side, but as long as Remnant was stable and prepared to fight back, he was mostly content to let the people decide how they wanted to live their lives.

_After all, I've tried taking control and ruling them, and that didn't end well at all. _

He was no less flawed than anyone else, so let the Kingdoms rule themselves as they saw fit. The autonomy had done a better job maintaining peace than he had as King. Having less to work on had also let him focus on the academies, the one good thing he could look back on and be proud of.

"Ironwood is going to make a mess of things," Qrow warned.

"Yes. I rather expect he will. I also expect the council will side with him. They don't like it when things become difficult to predict. This shifting public opinion must be worrying them. I've already had my request to handle security for the Vytal Festival put on hold. Apparently, they are `considering other options` and will get back to me."

"Sounds like they've already decided it won't be us."

"My thoughts exactly. I expect it will be James."

"Annoying."

"Indeed. Well, there's not much we can do to stop him if it is. You may as well stop looking for Jaune Arc now," he said. "You've done all you can but you're just – I mean, he's a master of stealth. No one could expect to find him. Even you."

Qrow's eyes narrowed but Ozpin had perfected his poker face in every casino across Remnant for the last thousand years. "Yeah," Qrow said suspiciously. "I guess you're right. He's just too damn good. At least the girls haven't gotten into any trouble."

"Other than a catwalk battle, you mean?"

"I said trouble. Me and Taiyang have that thing recorded. It was awesome! I am _so_ playing it at their weddings. Or next time they try to pull one over on me, or maybe just whenever I'm next in the mood to rile them up."

"I won't keep you then. Thank you for your aid, Qrow. I may have work for you in the meantime. The robberies around dust stores have continued, and although the perpetrators continue to wear White Fang masks, they are not the new ones, and they are clearly working with Torchwick. What's more, one was caught recently and was revealed to not be faunus at all. It seems Roman is gathering a large amount of dust and we are not sure why. This could be _our_ time to prove we're capable of dealing with criminal activity on our own. Look into it for me, won't you?"

"If you want this as a success story does that mean I have to involve the Teen Rangers?"

Ozpin chuckled. "It does."

/-/

"Do we have to?" Blake complained.

"Blake!" Ruby threw a pillow across the room. "Being such a party pooper is no way to get your scroll privileges returned."

"And that's another thing. You can't just refuse to let me have my own scroll."

"Can and have!"

"I agree with Ruby here," Weiss said. "Until you can prove you're reasonable enough to be trusted with your scroll, we shall be keeping it. Also, you've been complaining all week that we're not doing enough to tackle the criminals in Vale, and now Mr Branwen-"

"Please don't call me that."

"-is offering you the chance, you turn your nose up. What is the problem now?"

Blake scowled and muttered, "They're not faunus."

"Wow, Blake. Wow. You only want to hunt down _faunus_ criminals now?"

"That's not what I meant! You're making me sound racist!"

"I don't think _Weiss_ is the one making you sound racist, partner," Yang said.

"I can't be racist against my own species."

"Yeah, see, I thought that was how it worked too. Look, we all know what this is really about. You have a hate boner for the White Fang. We get it. Seriously, I think everyone in Vale gets it now after you were called out on national television, _Blaise_, but our job is to protect all people. Torchwick is doing bad stuff, right?" she asked Qrow.

"Him and his lot are stealing dust in vast quantities and blaming it on the White Fang," the huntsman replied. "I shouldn't need to tell you how dangerous dust can be, and since it's not entering the market again, we know he isn't stealing it for profit and selling it on. The dust Jaune Arc took before _was_ sold. We found it being shipped back in, but by that point the trail was cold."

"Suggesting they're not working together," Weiss reasoned.

"They're framing the White Fang, Weiss," Ruby said. "I think them not working together is a given when they do that."

"It could have been a double bluff!"

"It's not." Qrow said. "What we have here is something that's gone under not only our noses, but the White Fang's as well. This is a perfect opportunity for you four." He leaned on Ruby's bed. The rope holding it up snapped, the bed swung down, and Yang tackled Ruby out the way before she was killed. "Oh, uh, your bed broke."

"Uncle Qrow! Don't _touch_ anything!"

"You can't blame me for that."

"Yes, we can! Your Semblance-"

"And the point I was making was that you four have always been playing catch-up to the White Fang," he went on, making to lean on Blake's stack of books but for Yang bodily pushing him back before he could collapse another bunkbed. "You've always been second best. This is your chance to get one up, prove you can do something without their help and put a bad guy in a cell to boot. Who's with me!?"

"Me!"

"Hell yeah!"

"Absolutely."

"I'd rather we arrest Jaune Arc."

"Excellent!" Qrow said. "Now, there are five of us and plenty of places that have been hit. We're going to spread out and stay late at each store in the hopes of catching them in the act. Once you do, you're _not_ to engage, but to call so that the whole team can gather, and I can reinforce you. Then, and only then, will we move to arrest Torchwick and close down this operation. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Uncle Qrow!"

"Yep."

"It is a fine plan, Mr Branwen."

"Is anyone going to consider my opinion?"

Qrow gave them a thumbs up. "Perfect. Team RWBY, move out!"

/-/

Stakeouts weren't quite as awesome as they looked in movies, Ruby decided after two hours of milling around in a general store that had just yesterday received a dust shipment. For one thing, it was a huge amount of time just stood there, but the worst part was trying not to look like a weirdo who would genuinely stand in a store for two hours. At least she'd been allowed to tell the store owner. If she hadn't, she'd probably have been kicked out or questioned for loitering by this point.

That didn't stop the awkward interactions with other shoppers late this evening, which was sometimes just people mumbling as they walked by her, but sometimes led to confused looks that had her blushing and ducking for cover behind another aisle. There really was no way to explain why a fifteen year old girl was spending thirty minutes or more staring at a sweets aisle. No one was that indecisive.

_Ugh. Why do the comics have to be along the window? I can't read those or I'd be seen._ Torchwick knew her face, after all, and even if he didn't, there was a good chance the thieves would recognise her from television.

"Excuse me. Excuse me?" A woman old enough to be her mom waved a hand before her face. "Aren't you one of the girls from that fashion show? You are! I saw you modelling with all the roses falling everywhere." The woman clapped excitedly. "Do you mind if I get a selfie?"

Ruby blushed instantly. Being recognisable at all was a new and unwelcome experience, but after not only starring on the runway but also featuring in the taking down of the SDC lumber camp and other press-related events Coco forced them into, the name of Ruby Rose was starting to become one that meant something.

Now if only that could magic away her nerves.

"Um, yes, sure? Ahah…"

"Thank you!" The woman fished out her scroll and turned so she was posing next to her. "You won't believe how much this'll mean to the girls. Imagine me meeting Ruby Rose herself at a corner store. Can you even imagine? Well, I mean you can because you're here, but you know what I mean."

Not really…

"Cheese!"

Ruby smiled brightly. The camera flashed and the woman checked the photo, gushing happily about it and drawing other people's attention. They craned their heads around and over aisles to see who the local celebrity was, making Ruby wish she could shrink into her hood and wrap herself up tight like a baby. If Yang found her like that, though, or worse – Coco! It didn't bare thinking about.

"N-No problem," Ruby stammered. "I just need to do some shopping, though. Ahah. Excuse me!"

Darting away and around the corner, she hid in the toiletries aisle at the far back, as far away from the crowded checkout as she could feasibly get without hiding among the frozen goods in a freezer. Breathing out quickly, she pulled her hood up to cover her face and stood before the medicine section, pretending to be looking for one specific brand of aspirin among a wall of other medicine.

It worked for a good while, actually. People came and went and when one man did come up and got down on his heels to look along the lower shelf, she stepped aside to make room for him. He was a faunus with glasses, and he was crouched before the women's pads section. Ruby didn't really see anything wrong with that since Dad often had to buy them things if they ran out and he was going shopping. It wasn't like it was a big deal for a guy to be sent out for something.

"Hmm. Hmmmmm…."

Less so for him, apparently. The man had two packets in hand, weighing one in his left and another in his right. His eyebrows drew down, eyes thin slits as he inspected one, turned it over and read the back, then inspected the other.

She tried to stay out of it, she really did. It wasn't her business, and she was _meant_ to be the awkward one, but seeing him agonise over it was too much. Something had to be said.

"Um. S-Sorry if I'm interrupting but… do you need help…?"

Ruby expected indignation but the faunus looked up with such sheer relief that she thought he might weep. "Help me. Why are they in different colours? A-Are they flavours? Why would anyone care about them having flavours?"

"F-Flavours!?"

He hefted the green one. "Lime." Then the yellow. "Lemon."

If Yang had been around, she would have died laughing right there. "They're not flavours! It's for… you know…" A quick look left and right and a whisper. "It's for the flow."

"The what?"

"Ugh. The flow of… the flow that comes that these are for." Please don't make her explain that in any more detail. Luckily for her, less so for him, it dawned. His face twisted and he looked immediately ill. "How much does she usually have?" Ruby asked.

"I don't know! Oh hell, I don't _want_ to know. I'll just buy ultra. That'll do, right?"

"Ultra!?"

"Sure. Ultra is the best quality, right? At least then she can't accuse me of being a cheapskate."

"No, no, no, no, no." Ruby stopped him while blushing badly. "It's not like toilet roll! Ultra doesn't mean ultra softness or quality. It's… well." Ruby pointed down. Not to herself, but to the floor. "It's about how much absorbency you need." When it didn't immediately sink in – and she hated that turn of phrase at this moment – she added, "How much she… you know. Expels."

He shuddered. So did she.

"Advice," he requested. "Please."

Ruby was as done with the conversation as he was. Taking the packet from his hand, she pulled another from the shelf. Regular size, based on the assumption he was buying for a girlfriend and not a daughter. He looked too young to have a daughter old enough to need them.

"Regular," she squeaked. "It'll do and they're smaller, so a little easier to get in and out."

"Cool. So…" the faunus looked her up and down. "Can we pretend this never happened?"

"Yep!"

"Awesome. I'll just be going now-"

The windows smashed. Bullets flew up into the air. People screamed and dove to the ground, and the faunus pushed Ruby down and back, probably to save her. All it really meant was that they crashed into the aisle and tumbled down in a rain of tampons.

"This is a robbery!" Roman Torchwick called out. "Everyone stay still and calm and no one gets hurt."

* * *

**Yes, the tampon scene is based on that amusing news story recently of the guy texting his girlfriend to ask if she wanted the lemon or lime tampons. Just feels like something Perry would do. I grew up with two sisters, so I got a crash course education on that and many other things, including having my nails varnished and how to apply makeup and braid hair.**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 20****th**** October**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


	25. Chapter 25

**I am aware site is having issues with chapters. You'll likely not see this message until after that is solved. I have also tried updating my profile to direct people to my patron but profiles are also not updating. It must be a server issue on the ff site.**

* * *

**Cover Art:** Serox

**Chapter 25**

* * *

Ruby hit the floor behind the pharmaceutical stand and pushed herself up against the cough medicine. Already, she could hear glass crunching under the feet of several large people, the whimpers of the innocents and someone ordering the shopkeeper to turn off the alarm. This was so much less subtle than the attack she'd foiled before.

Did that mean the bad guys were running out of patience? It certainly meant they had to be quick since the police might be on their way. Quick meant dangerous, which meant everyone here was in trouble. Her scroll was out in an instant, thumbs flying across the screen as she messaged Qrow.

"Don't worry!" the intrepid tampon buyer whispered to her. "I've called for reinforcements."

"You've called for reinforcements?" she asked dumbly. "But _I've_ called for reinforcements."

"Wait, you did? What do-" The faunus' eyes widened as he took her face in properly. "Ah man, can't I catch a break?"

"Oi!" Torchwick's voice came first, followed by his head and shoulders peeking around the corner. "I thought I told you all to get down. Now you're in trouble…" He trailed off with eyes locked on her face. Innocently, Ruby waved back. "Ah man, can't I catch a break?"

Crud! This was her cue. "R-Roman Torchwick!" she shouted, stammering slightly on the first word since everyone in the store was now looking to her. "You are under arrest! Surrender and put your hands in the air!"

The master criminal cocked a single eyebrow. "Anyone ever do that?"

"No," she admitted, "But I'm supposed to offer."

"Cool. So, no. Obviously. Boys." He waved his hand toward her. "Keep the huntress busy."

Six men in the same black and red suits from before came pouring around both ends of the aisle, batons, blades and knuckledusters on full array. Ruby ripped Crescent Rose free and brandished it, knowing she could attack one side faster than they could close the trap. That'd mean leaving the helpless faunus in trouble, though.

"Whoah!" Said `helpless faunus` yelped at the sight of the approaching enemies. "No thanks!"

He lunged to the side, grabbing a stand-up display unit full of the latest diet pills and toppling it into their path. Little plastic jars clattered over the floor in their hundreds, tripping and slipping under foot, making the three men to her left crash to the floor. Without waiting for them to get up or punish him for what he'd done, he ran up, gripped the aisle itself and yanked it back, making it fall on top of the three men, medicine, toilet roll and all.

Huh. That was a thing.

The three from her end had just about reached her and one of them helpfully announced his presence with a loud battle cry. Ducking under his downward swing, she hooked the butt of Crescent Rose under his heel and pulled, sweeping his leg out from under him while also bringing her bladed end to face another – not attacking him, but suddenly pushing it into his face to steer him away and create some distance. Crescent Rose tended to have that effect on people. While a tiny girl wasn't so intimidating, a huge kickass scythe certainly was.

The third was braver and threw a punch for her throat. He was no Yang, however, and you didn't grow up with a sister like that and not learn a few tricks. Stepping aside, she brought the pole of Crescent Rose up and used it to lock his wrist and arm against her shoulder, then twisted it ninety degrees, bending his arm to the side in such a way that it threatened to break. Naturally, he collapsed to one knee, holding his shoulder in pain and letting her release him and jab the butt into his chest to knock him back.

No aura. These guys were really weak, which was nice and all but also meant she couldn't actually use her weapon without hurting them. Coco would have called that bad PR, though Ruby would have pointed out it was just plain wrong. She was a hero after all. Heroes saved the day with as little hurt as possible. Well, as little injury. These guys could handle a few bruises.

A quick look back told her the faunus was fine. He was busy throwing stuff at the downed crooks, who couldn't even push the stand off them. They were dealt with. Running around the corner and over her own foes, she skidded to a halt and pointed Crescent Rose's business end at Torchwick, who was forcing the storekeeper to pile dust into a container.

"Freeze, Torchwick!"

"How about no?" he drawled, hauling the man in front of him as a human shield. "Seriously, though, why do I keep hiring these people? Oh right, because I don't have to pay them if they get captured. Come on, Red, we need to stop meeting like this. I know I ran out on you the first time but that's no reason to be obsessive. I think it's time we started seeing other people. In fact, I think it's about time I introduce you to my _real partner_, isn't it? Come on out and say hello, Neo!"

The sound of breaking glass behind provided all the warning Ruby needed to press her back to an aisle so she could keep them both in view at once. The other girl was small but dressed similarly to Torchwick, with white boots and a white coat over grey pants. Her most defining feature was her hair, a bright mix of pink, brown and a dash of cream. As small as her and just as slight, the girl held an umbrella over one shoulder and dipped into a mocking curtsy.

Ruby stared. "This is your partner…?"

"Sure is!" Torchwick said proudly. "So, what do you think?"

Angrily, Ruby rounded on the man. "Roman Torchwick, you're under arrest for grooming!"

The cigar fell from his mouth. "W-What…?"

"There's no way she's eighteen! And even if she was, you're like, thirty-"

"Twenty-nine, thank you!"

"That's practically thirty."

"No, it bloody well isn't! It is _one whole year_ below thirty! Wait, why am I arguing this with you? Neo is my _partner in crime_, not my life partner! No, Neo! Stop doing that! Stop it!" Neo's head bobbed silently, both hands covering her face as she cried into her hands.

"Torchwick!" Ruby growled.

"It's not what you think. Gah, my rep. You realise this is coming out of your ice-cream budget, right?"

"Luring a poor girl in with promises of ice-cream…"

"That's not what that meant!"

"And she's too scared to even say a word…"

"She's mute! She can't speak!"

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Neo," she said. "Blink twice if he takes advantage of you."

Neo's hands parted, grin showing through.

"Don't you dare, Neo!" Roman threatened.

One blink.

Two blinks.

Roman sighed. "You are such a bitch to me, and after everything I do. Ugh. Just… deal with her."

Neo moved. Ruby didn't stick around either. Taking a leaf from the faunus' books, she stuck the butt of Crescent Rose in the nearest shelf and used both hands to rip it back, launching fifty or so packets of biscuits and cookies at her attacker. They didn't do much damage, but the rolled up tubes of cookies exploding over her certainly slowed her down. Ruby knelt and cocked Crescent Rose back, taking aim on the girl's leg and waiting for the flash of aura.

Aura, when pushed forward, didn't care _what_ you were hit with, so when a tube of chocolate chip cookies hit Neo's shoulder and her aura flickered momentarily, Ruby knew she had it unlocked. Her finger pulled the trigger, Crescent Rose bucking as he fired.

The girl took to the air. Gracefully flipping up and landing _atop_ an aisle, Neo charged down a thin railing not an inch wide like it was a highway. Once she reached Ruby she jumped up and over, flipping in the air while fanning out her parasol to block the second shot. To Ruby's shock, the dust round exploded over the thin material without penetrating.

The moment of shock cost her. Neo's boots landed behind and a heel slammed into the small of her back, launching Ruby into the magazines stand. Newspapers and magazines exploded all around her as her head and shoulders punched _through_ the racks, leaving her half stuck on one side and half on the other. Twisting her body, she picked up and turned the rack, unwilling to leave her back to her enemy, or her butt sticking out invitingly. More magazines spilled down as Ruby wore her new accessory with a serious lack of pride.

"Nice look, Red. Ha ha. Maybe you missed your calling with the magazine industry." He hefted a single crate over his shoulder. "The manual labourers are down for the count. This is about as good as we can get. Let's just split before the police arri-" Torchwick looked out the window and swore. "Shit. This is the last thing we need…"

"That's right!" Ruby said proudly, or as proudly as she could wearing a magazine stand like a pair of shoulder pads. "You're not going anywhere, Torchwick, because my team is here to take you in! Fear not, everyone, for Beacon is here to save the day!"

Torchwick and Neo kept staring above her head.

Yang, Weiss, Blake and Uncle Qrow _did not_ shout out their support, nor complete the epic speech she'd planned. Ruby's arms fell, a long sigh escaping her. "It's not my team behind me, is it?"

Mutely, Neo shook her head.

/-/

"Roman Torchwick!" Jaune called out, flanked by the White Fang in their new masks, piling out the back of an unmarked van. He was acutely aware of the people nearby videoing the whole thing, which meant he had to act the part. Ugh. How annoying. "Ahem. Roman Torchwick, you have harmed the people of Vale continuously. Human or faunus, you are a plague upon both and will stand judged for your crimes. Surrender peacefully and we will assure you a fair trial by the authorities of Vale."

There. That ought to do. Heroic and law-abiding, even stressing the fact it wouldn't be the White fang deciding his fate. There was no way anyone could mistake that as some kind of ambitious power play.

"And if I say no?" the man shouted back.

Jaune blinked and looked around, just to make sure he was actually surrounded by the White Fang. He was. It wasn't just the usual crew, either. They'd brought along ten fresh recruits, both to act as muscle but more importantly to make it clear the recruits would be used in the first place. Ilia had stressed the importance of that since both Sienna _and_ the new recruits themselves might wonder what the point of their aid was if they weren't being used. All in all, there were about twenty people arrayed against Torchwick.

"Then we'll come in and get you." Jaune replied. "I thought that would have been obvious. You're vastly outnumbered and not in any position to negotiate. Whatever you decide, you will be arrested tonight by the White-"

"By Beacon!" a small voice from within the convenience store yelled.

Jaune narrowed his eyes. "Beacon-? Is there a huntress in there?"

"No…" There was a moment's pause. "Maybe. I found him first! He's mine!"

Why was there a huntress in there? Perry's text made it sound like he was in trouble and needed a rescue. Jaune wanted to scream into his hand but that wouldn't have looked very heroic to the crowd. Then again, neither was starting a fight with a huntress. The recruits were nervous, too, unsure what they were meant to do.

"Then we should work together!" he offered. "Roman Torchwick is a common foe and we need someone capable of making sure he goes to prison for his crimes. The White Fang have no problem working alongside Vale's protectors."

It was surprisingly easy to judge whether he was doing well or not based on the reactions of the crowd watching this than using his own intelligence. After he said that, he caught some people nodding and a few others looking far less afraid. They were still being recorded so appearances were as important as ever. The huntress had to know that as well. And as the silence grew, she would look worse. He actually didn't want that since it would turn Beacon against them.

"What say you, huntress?" he called. "Shall we work together?"

"No!"

Jaune rolled his eyes. "I didn't ask you, Torchwick."

"Enough of this!" Torchwick came strolling out the store with a frightened man held before him, his cane over the man's neck. A hostage situation. Jaune swore. Torchwick moved out until everyone could see him, and beside him was a short girl Jaune didn't recognise. A moment later, Ruby Rose of Beacon came out as well, ruffled and obviously having been in a fight. "Be careful of the girl!" she called. "She's on his side and dangerous!"

"Thanks for the warning." A quick nod had the White Fang spreading out, more to protect the civilians than surround Torchwick. He was already stuck where he was. "So, we hear you've been framing us for numerous dust robberies across the city. That's not exactly sporting."

The audience began to whisper and murmur. There was no knowing if saying that would be enough to make anyone look into it, but it would put the idea in people's heads. Why _would_ the White Fang be helping people with one hand and stealing from them the next? That doubt might win some people over even if the authorities refused to accept it.

"Framing you?" For his part, Roman played his surprise well. "Blaming your work on me now? What's a poor small-time thief to do? Well, this all looks like one big misunderstanding, so why don't we-"

"Ruby!" A voice he vaguely recognised call out, making him and everyone else look aside in time to see the huntresses team arriving. The blonde rushed up to her sister and took a stance against Torchwick while eyeing them nervously. "Aaand the White Fang. Sheesh, sis. When you said you'd found them I didn't think you meant everyone."

"I didn't know that either…"

"Jaune Arc." Weiss Schnee stepped up formally, standing before her team with one hand on her rapier. "I hope the White Fang have not been making any aggressive overtures toward my team leader."

"None at all," he replied, even more grateful the van had been too small for Bane. If he was here, then he might have lost it again at the sight of her. "If anything, we've agreed to work together to apprehend a criminal."

"He's lying, Weiss," Blake hissed. "Don't believe him."

"No," Ruby said. "That's how it happened."

"Ruby has been compromised!" Gambol Shroud came out – he only knew the name thanks to Adam waxing poetic. Apparently, he'd run out of things to rhyme in his poetry about Blake being an angel above the clouds, and her weapon had fit in nicely. Adam's ex pointed it at him. "If you want to lay waste to the city, you'll have to get through me!"

"Boss," someone whispered. "Are we here to lay waste to the city? I live in the city…"

"We're not here for that," he replied loud enough for everyone to hear. "We came because of a report that Roman Torchwick was attacking innocent people. Knowing that the police would have little hope against so dangerous a man, we sought to intervene." There. He'd even said it in a way that didn't make the police sound useless, but outclassed. "We're on your side, huntresses."

"Lies!" Blake hissed.

"Yeah!" Roman agreed. "You tell 'em, girl."

"Seriously, Blake? Now even _Roman_ is agreeing with you. It's not a good look." Yang Xiao-Long stepped up and pulled her partner back. "How about we sort the specifics out _after_ the hostage is safe, yeah? I'm sure he's not happy being held prisoner."

_Why are you making it sound like it's us who are wasting time?_ Or more specifically, how. That was a pretty impressive skill to have when it was absolutely her partner doing it. He couldn't even disagree without looking petty. With a roll of his eyes, he nodded. "Very well."

"Cool. Yeah. Awesome." Roman hefted the man tighter against him. "So, let's sort this out, shall we? I'm going to need an escape vehicle, an assurance you won't be following me and someone to hand this fine gentleman off to."

"What about your men?" Ruby asked.

"They got took out by a tween and a guy with pockets stuffed full of tampons. You can have them."

"You're not escaping!" Yang shouted.

"I'm not?" Roman blinked owlishly and then hummed. "Huh, well, okay. Guess I'll blow this guy's head off then since he's useless. Sorry, old ma-"

"Wait, wait, wait!" Ruby shrieked. "L-Let's not do that."

Roman chuckled. "Now we're making progress. See, it's not so hard."

This was a bad situation no matter which way they cut it. Coming to stop a criminal was one thing, handling a hostage situation another entirely. He had no idea what to say or do. Was it best to let the bad guy escape? It was obviously the right thing to not let the hostage be hurt, but how much was too much when it came to a villain's demands? He let his eyes slide to Ilia, but the chameleon faunus was silent.

_We don't know what Roman or his new helper are capable of but even if they're amateurs I wouldn't feel confident saying we can stop him before he hurts that guy._ This was the worst kind of first public appearance they could make. Everyone would be watching and judging.

"Boss?" Yuma prompted.

Oh, so _now_ it was his responsibility to decide everything. Yeah. That seemed fair. He didn't need to mentally ask what Adam would have done in this situation. Probably ignore Roman entirely to start trying to win Blake over.

"What assurances do we have that the hostage will go unharmed?"

"The best kind of assurance." Roman was smiling now, knowing the odds were in his favour. "Self-interest. If I harm this guy once you let me go, you'll stop at nothing to hunt me down. You'll also never make a deal like this again. I'm a career criminal. I don't burn bridges like that."

In a way, he was like them. Or him. Just as they couldn't afford to make this a scene by forcing Roman's hand, Roman didn't _want_ it to become that moment, because kill the hostage and then there was nothing left to save him, and when he was captured and arrested after that, he'd be going down for murder instead of whatever crimes he had on his record. This was someone who liked to play things safe and stay out of trouble, or at least the worst trouble. Enough trouble to be on the news and recognised, but not enough to warrant a manhunt.

In which case, why was he going this far? Why hit so many shops in recent days and why take a hostage knowing that would drive sentiment against you? Something was off here. Roman either didn't want to do this or was being pushed, or he was desperate for some other reason. Either way, that meant he might just pull the trigger.

"Empty the van," he ordered the White Fang. "We'd have had to ditch it after this anyway."

Deery opened the driver door and hopped out, leaving the keys in and the door open. Yuma and Trifa moved away from it as well, offering a relatively clear path for Roman. The thief nodded to his companion, who skipped through the middle of the White Fang and climbed into the seat, starting the engine before waving back at Roman.

"Good to see there's an animal who knows how to be reasonable nowadays. Your predecessor was anything but." Roman dragged the man along slowly. "Now, I gave you my word this guy will be safe, and I intend to keep it. I'll drop him off once we're away from here safe and sound."

"Why not prove that by giving him to us now?"

"See, I would, but what's to stop you shooting at the vehicle or them chasing after us?" He nodded to the huntresses. "Don't take it personally, kid," he said in a lower voice. "I happen to think you're legit. Or desperate enough to play it that you'd stick to any deal made. Them, on the other hand? I don't know. Not enough to risk it."

Jaune stared at the man. "Will you really let him go?"

"Course. What do I get from offing him? He's not my eternal rival; hurting even a hair on his head would be the worst call I could ever make." Roman slid by, keeping the man between them as he went. When he came closest, so close that no one could hear, Jaune spoke.

"Does the name `Cinder` mean anything to you, Roman?"

Roman flinched. It was such a small and innocent thing that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't looking.

"I see that it does."

"Met her as well, have you?" Roman asked quietly. "That woman is bad news for people like us."

"People like us. What does that mean?"

"Crooks skirting the law but trying to keep our noses relatively clean. We're not nutjobs; we're guys that didn't fit in or those who can't fit in." He shrugged nonchalantly. "We break the law, we steal, and we do what we like, but it's not as though we hate the city or the people in it. We live here too after all." His smile faded. "That woman isn't like us. Not like a fanatic with something to prove or a chip on their shoulder, either. Cinder is dangerous, kid. You'd do well to stay far, far away."

That was the feeling he'd had regarding her, and the decision they'd made. "What about you, Roman?"

"Heh. I couldn't run fast enough. Good luck to you, kid. Make some waves." Roman opened the back door of the van and climbed in, drawing the hostage up behind him. "Don't you fret, old man. You heard what I said. Hold on tight and you'll be released in fifteen minutes or so. Have an exciting story to tell your kids, too." Roman reached out and closed one of the doors, leaning out to wave to them. "Nice doing business with you all. Neo, hit the-"

Roman's words, and the silence, were ripped apart by a ferocious roar above them. Something so loud it sent people ducking for cover and holding their ears. The nearby street signs rattled and Jaune's hoodie flapped angrily as the wind was kicked up a second after. It was followed by a second roar and then a third, these faster and leaving streamers of smoke across the sky. Aircraft. Bullheads. Numerous Bullheads streaking across the sky.

"Hey! Hey!" Roman yelled. "What's this? We agreed no pursuit!"

"You think _we_ have this hardware!?"

Roman knew they couldn't. His attention turned to the huntresses. "These yours, Red? Don't make me the bad guy here!"

"They're not ours!"

If they weren't White Fang, weren't Roman's clique and weren't from Beacon…

"_Terrorist members of the White Fang,"_ a loud voice boomed out, playing so loudly from so far above that Jaune didn't doubt every single person in the city heard it. _"You are hereby ordered to lay down your weapons and surrender or face the might of the Kingdom of Atlas." _

"Atlas!?" Weiss cried. "What are they doing here?"

"Well, it sounds like they're not interested in me!" Roman called, slamming one door shut. "Love to see ya, hate to leave ya, and all that. Tadah now!" The final door clapped shut and the van's engine roared to life, tyres squealing as it pulled away, almost entirely forgotten now.

It was hard to pay attention when a shadow covered the city, blocking out the moonlight as a gargantuan metal beast crept in over the city, casting entire blocks in shadow. It was huge even from so great a distance, and if the small black dots pouring out from its sides were Bullheads, then the whole thing must have been bigger than Ansel. A battleship the size of a decently sized village. Jaune stood rooted to the spot, mouth hanging open.

"Jaune!" Ilia gripped his arm. "The recruits are panicking! Do something!"

"R-Right. We're falling back!" he ordered. What else could he do? "Disperse and unmask. Don't fight Atlas! Whatever happens, don't fight."

If they got into a war with a freaking _Kingdom,_ he'd never have a chance of proving his innocence.

"Do you think we're going to let you escape?" Blake demanded.

Jaune blinked her way. "Yes. Why wouldn't you?"

"Ignore her!" Yang said, holding a hand over Blake's mouth. "Go on, then. We'll hunt down the hostage and make sure he was released safe. If he wasn't, Torchwick will pay for it. Damn it, Blake. Quit struggling. Do you realise what a fight _here_ will do? Think of all the people!"

That was their cue to get the hell out.

/-/

"General Ironwood, the White Fang are in full retreat."

Of course they were. They couldn't hope to stand up to the might of his navy in open battle, nor could they afford to for the sake of publicity. They _had_ to run. Just as he expected. "Order them pursued. I want Bullheads in the air. Monitor every single pocket of resistance that parts from the group. I want them all documented and hunted down by morning."

"Sir," another office called up to him from their terminal. "We have repeated messages from Vale Air Traffic Control. They are insistent that we are in violation."

"Air traffic laws are waived in moments of conflict, Lieutenant. Remind them, and if they suggest the White Fang is not sufficient justification, inform them that they can formally complain to my superiors and explain why they wish to harbour and protect terrorists. Continue operating. Corral any allied aircraft away from operations, but do not harm them."

On the large projected screen before him, the White Fang broke into two groups. One of those groups went east, the other west. As per his orders, the camera followed the one containing their leader. It was always best to cut the head off the snake, and the smaller party would still be hunted by the other Bullheads that veered off.

Ironwood thumbed the screen further up to an intersection they were headed toward – not a road, but a pedestrian crossroads leading to the closest shopping mall. A typical reaction to airborne surveillance, seeking cover where they could mingle into the populace, using civilians as human shields like the cowards they were.

"Deploy Knight Units to cut them off!" he ordered.

"Sir! Yes sir! Deploying!"

A red reticle appeared on the map and Ironwood heard the `boom` of the canon firing. The shell would disperse in the air, parachutes expanding to take the pieces down safely, jettisoning the automated Knight-10 Units, the latest in Atlesian robotic units, to hover safely down. The latest computing telemetry allowed them to predict obstacles and avoid harming any civilians on the ground.

The ten white units landed and formed a wall, ushering civilians back and aiming their weapons toward the oncoming White Fang. As was to be expected, the cowards changed their track and ducked into a nearby multi-storey car park.

"Sir. We have lost visual."

"Surround the building and place cameras on every route in and out. Mobilise more Knight-10 units via insertion through the upper levels. Instruct the gunnery crews to monitor ground level." Louder, he called out, "Transport four units of troops down. Priority is moving the civilians away and securing the area. Winter Schnee to command."

"Sir!"

"_Sir_!" Winter replied, appearing on a small screen nearby. _"Deploying now, General. We will engage on your order."_

"Negative, Specialist. The priority is civilian control. Even mildly injuring you would be a victory for the White Fang. We won't allow them even the slightest chance of converting this crushing defeat in their favour."

"_As you command, sir. Winter out."_

"Sir! We have priority communication from Beacon. It's Headmaster Ozpin."

Typical. He was probably calling to complain this was too extreme a response. How ridiculous. Extreme was doing nothing when armed and dangerous terrorists were running rampant in your streets, taking over important broadcasts and staking a claim on the people you were meant to protect. Extreme was believing such monsters could be redeemed.

"Tell him I'm unavailable. Instead, patch me through to Vale's largest media agency and schedule an emergency press broadcast. I am going to address the people of Vale and assure them of their safety now that we are here. And I shall be sending a message to Jaune Arc and the White Fang while I am at it." He rose, sweeping his military coat back. "The time for diplomacy is over. We are now in a state of emergency, effective immediately."

All across the battleship, men and women snapped to attention, saluting and shouting. "Sir, yes sir!"

Atlas had come, and it was time that Jaune Arc learned not all Kingdoms would be willing to sit back and let him make a mockery of them. _I warned you that I would not stand for him running free, Ozpin. If you cannot look after your own city then I shall have to do it for you._

* * *

**Monday: Ironwood is such a cool guy wanting to do his best.**

**Tuesday: Omfg Ironwood, why are you such an idiot?**

**I really do like him. Maybe I can use the excuse that RT seems to have given him in that his Semblance makes him hyper focus and forget other things or not see the bigger picture. Feels like a weak excuse but hey, it's canon!**

* * *

**Next Chapter: 17****th**** November**

**P a treon . com (slash) Coeur **


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